


Raising Five

by thotgreeves



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Became Plotty, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, No Apocalypse, Pining, Romance, Should be crack, Slow Burn, The Hargreeves siblings are bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-04-07 01:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19074412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thotgreeves/pseuds/thotgreeves
Summary: “We’re being watched.” Five announces, appearing in the kitchen without warning and making Klaus almost spill his freshly made cup of tea all over the counter.“By The Commission?” Klaus asks, scrambling to pick up the first weapon he can find - a tomato.“Worse.” Five shakes his head with the slow gravitas that only an apocalypse survivor can muster. “Child Services.”OR the one where Klaus and Diego pretend to be in a relationship to adopt Five.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another post-season one, they-averted-the-apocalypse fic! For any of this to work, please proceed with a strong suspension of disbelief on when Child Services would realize Five is the same kid who disappeared seventeen years ago and we'll be all good! ♥ I have 80% of this fic written and plotted and meant to post it as the full, 40k+ monster it turned into, but I had to break it down - should be finishing up soon!

“We’re being watched.” Five announces, appearing in the kitchen without warning and making Klaus almost spill his freshly made cup of tea all over the counter.

“By The Commission?” Klaus asks, scrambling to pick up the first weapon he can find - a tomato.

“Worse.” Five shakes his head with the slow gravitas that only an apocalypse survivor can muster. “Child services.”

“Huh.” Klaus frowns as Five plucks the tomato from his hand and transports to sit on the table with it, biting into it whole like a true serial killer. “Unpack that for me.”

“I’m still thirteen, if you hadn’t noticed.” Five chews, matter-of-fact. “Although I do realize by now that you’re all too self-interested to realize people other than yourselves have problems.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’re a horny old bastard in knee-highs, _quelle tragique_.” Klaus waves his wrist like this isn’t the most thrilling thing to light up his mind-numbingly sober life in weeks. “Child services caught wind of some modern-day Oliver Twist hot-wiring cars and driving around the city all willy-nilly, they’ve tracked you down to this wretched hellhole of a family home, and now - oh, _shit_ , now you need me to pretend to be your Dad again?”

“Something like that, yes.” Five actually looks pleased with him for getting there all on his own. “I’ve been keeping track of the two agents following me for the past week. They’re parked outside the house as we speak.”

“So what are we supposed to do when the Child Snatcher comes a-knocking?”

“I need you to adopt me.”

Klaus checks Five’s face for any signs of humor. There are none, as usual.

“You’re serious.” Klaus says faintly, clutching his chest, as if he can trap the laughter bubbling up in there. “You need me? Useless Klaus? To adopt _you_?”

“We’d specifically be applying for kinship adoption.” Five carries on, remarkably even-tempered. Then, as if it isn’t obvious. “You’re my kin, Klaus.”

“Oh, this must be killing you.”

“So you’ll do it.” It’s not a question.

Klaus bites his thumbnail, alarmed by how Five already seems to have made up his mind. They’re supposed to only make huge, life-altering decisions if they’ve been approved by a family vote first (“Some cult shit,” Diego called it) and he knows Luther and Allison are going to be pissed at him if he goes along with this. But Five is difficult to argue with and always has a way of making Klaus feel dumb when he tries.

And Five _knows_ Klaus is going to say yes, because he’s almost incapable of telling anyone _no_ when they want something out of him, but a lifetime of being weak-willed in the face of peer pressure has built up one special survival skill that Klaus can wield until it cracks: the art of stalling.

“I don’t know, Five, it’s a lot of responsibility to put on my delicate sober state of mind.” Klaus sighs, which isn’t really a lie. He and Five have been spending too much time together recently and working with him on his various schemes always takes a toll on Klaus’s confidence. “And don’t you think it’s a little rash to sign your independence away to being my kid for the indeterminate future?”

“I’m not going to be stuck in this child body forever, Klaus.” Five snaps, squeezing the tomato like he wishes it was Klaus’s head, juice running down his fingers.

Hit a nerve there, then.

“This is just a stepping stone to make sure I have some privacy whilst I work out how to age myself up again.” Five mutters. “Besides, all you’ve been doing is moping around the house like you’ve had a bad break-up lately. This’ll be a good way to keep that flighty mind of yours occupied for a week or two until this blows over. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Gee thanks, forgive me for not realizing what a martyr you are.” Klaus downs the last of his herbal tea and rounds on Five, planting his hands on the table in front of him. “Aren’t you worried Child Services poking their noses in is going to end up with them finding anything suspicious about our-” Klaus gestures vaguely at the entirety of the house and everyone inside of it. “Situation?”

“Not really. As far as the average person is concerned, I’m just a child with a dead adoptive Father and no surviving records of my biological Mother - and even if there were, she could be on the other side of the planet -”

“Or in Buffalo.”

“I am _not_ from Buffalo.” Five snits.

This is an old joke, dating back from before Five disappeared. Klaus still thinks it’s as funny as he did when they were kids.

“But you’re fifty-eight years old.” Klaus tries again. “Can’t you explain that you’re- all geriatric and shit?”

“Explain that I time-traveled into the future and returned forty-five years later, still looking like an underage boy who doesn’t have a legal guardian, isn’t enrolled in any schooling system and currently inhabiting the home of a man Vanya publicly outed as a famous child abuser?” Five licks tomato juice from his finger, nonplussed. “That’s implausible. All it’s going to bring is unwanted attention.”

Klaus deflates. He has a point. “Diego told me I need to learn how to say no to you-”

“Diego’s not here.”

This is true. Klaus sweats, running out of options. Five is such a crafty little bastard for cornering him like this when he knew nobody else was going to be home.

“Aren’t you always complaining about wanting to be taken more seriously? ” Five says critically, delivering the finishing blow. “Show the others you can be a responsible guardian and they might stop treating you like an overgrown child.”

The idea of his siblings taking him seriously for once is enough for Klaus to waver, it may as well be the verbal equivalent to dangling a baggie of crack in front of his face and making him run in a circle for it.

“But really, Five, on a practical level - _moi_?” Klaus waves a hand over himself, generally. He’s wearing a low-cut, second-hand kaftan and some fluffy slippers he thinks belonged to Allison. His hair does look fan-fucking-tastic today though. “You really don’t think you have _any_ other siblings who might fit the...job description, better?”

“Depressing as it may be-” Five actually looks forlorn. “No.”

“What about Luther?”

“I will not give that man any more authority over me than he already has.” Five says darkly. “Besides, he’d want to hang out all the time and I don’t want to encourage that.”

“Allison, then?” Klaus says, like it’s obvious. “She already has a kid-”

“A kid she is legally not allowed to visit.”

Shit, Five really has thought about this.

Klaus bites his lip. “Diego?”

Five looks positively bored by this point, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yes, I’ll claim the knife-throwing, masked vigilante whose identity is _publicly_ known to be my legal guardian, that’ll go over well.”

“You would’ve been a great Dad.” Klaus tells Ben, who has been sitting at the table and hate-reading some Lovecraftian novel the whole time, remorsefully.

Ben flips him off. “You’re forgetting Vanya. Which you probably ought to have stopped doing, by now.”

“Vanya.” Klaus snaps his fingers, like it’s his idea, because by his logic he and Ben share intellectual property. Ben rolls his eyes. “Vanya! Vanya makes perfect sense - she has her own place, her own income, only a sensible amount of clinical depression - her doomsday-harkening mental breakdown isn’t on any medical records-”

“No.” Five’s tone brokers no room for argument. “She doesn’t need more stress than what we’ve already caused her.”

Klaus thinks this is a pretty flimsy excuse, but Ben sends him a reproachful look, so he files it away and decides to poke that particular bear later.

“Guess you better hope for some kind millionaire banker to come adopt you then, little orphan Five, because you’re all outta options.” Klaus says, repressing a smirk when he sees how Five is coloring with barely restrained rage. “I have an extensive criminal record, I used rehab like it was an all-expenses-paid hotel, and by gosh if all those newspapers clippings documenting my tearaway teen years aren’t going to catch up to me, I’m too fragile for _that_ cross-examination-”

“How long have you been sober for now - two, three weeks?”

“Three months, asshole.” Klaus says, indignant. It’s not like they haven’t been living together for that long.

Five shrugs, as if time is irrelevant. Klaus supposes it kind of is for him.

“Great. So we spin them a story about how you were always an unwilling member of the team, a sensitive soul if you will, it made you rebel and turn to drugs as an escapism from the daily hells of the academy, and you chose to leave after the demise of your beloved brother, yadda yadda.” Five lists this with the distant ease of someone who was never there. “And sure, you made some bad choices along the way, but you’ve really cleaned up your act in the death of your mean adoptive father and now that you have your loving siblings back in your life, you want to take on the little boy Sir Reginald adopted in his waning years and raise him to have the childhood you never got to have.”

“ _Woof_.” Ben says.

“Well?” Five folds his arms, business-like “It’s worth a shot.”

“Yeah, great story.” Klaus says, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. Five’s eyes are like twin black holes drilling into his body. “Didn’t realize you had such a colorful imagination.”

“Also, I can use you.”

Ben raises a finger in the air. “Knew it.”

“You can’t _use_ me.” Klaus says, affronted. “I will not be used. Anymore.”

“And _besides_ all of that-” Five has to stop himself, face pinching as if in physical pain. “I don’t have the...calmest temperament, at times, and I might need someone to balance me out in an interview-type situation. You can be - charming.”

Klaus preens. “Sorry, can you repeat that louder for the people in the back?”

“When you want to be.” Five snaps. Then, under his breath, because he talks to himself as much as Klaus does. “It might as well be your only known survival skill.”

“Savage.” Ben murmurs, turning a page. “You gonna let him get away with that?”

“Sorry, did you want me to call Child Services _on_ you?” Klaus looms over Five, just because he can. “Because shipping you off to live with Miss Hannigan sounds like a fun idea to float past the fam next time you go acting all superior at the dinner table. So if you need a favor, why don’t you try being nice to me for a change, my little _enfant terrible_?”

“Really?” Five raises an unimpressed eyebrow. Klaus raises both of his in return, a challenge. “ _Fine_. Klaus, I would like for you to help me by becoming my legal guardian, and in return -” He sucks his teeth. “I know the matter of how you’ll all celebrate your thirtieth birthday together has been a matter of hot debate. I’ll throw in a vote for your suggestion of birthday karaoke.”

“Oh, now we’re getting somewhere.” Klaus rubs his hands together. Five sits back a little, perturbed. “In addition, you’ll stop asking me to assist you on any of your undercover escapades by pretending to be any of the following: hooker, escort, junkie, stripper, junkie hooker, dead hooker-” He holds a finger to Five’s lips when they move to protest. “I don’t want to lower myself to those roles anymore.”

“Since when?” Five asks, indignant.

“Since I decided I want to be taken seriously. I’m evolving.” Klaus tells him proudly. “Also, you literally almost sold me to the Russian mafia last time, very uncool-.”

“Fine.” Five spits. “I’ll find someone else to be a hooker for me.”

Klaus pats his head. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear from you, son.”

Five catches his wrist, severe. “That ends here.”

“I don’t know if I can agree to _that_.”

Five releases him and arranges his hands in his lap, suddenly looking for all the world like an actual abandoned child in need of guardianship. It’s disarming.

“So you’ll adopt me?”

Five is watching at him with a familiar look in his eyes, the same look Klaus noticed back when he was obsessively calibrating ways to overcome the apocalypse, scrawling equations on his bedroom wall. The same look he recognizes in himself, even after hitting his ninety days of sobriety. Addict eyes. Desperate for a fix.

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” Klaus manages to smile. “You’re right. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Five pops the last of the tomato in his mouth. “Took you long enough.”

And then he’s gone.

“You’re welcome.” Klaus yells at the thin air Five had once occupied. He faces Ben, long-suffering. “Nobody in this family appreciates me.”

“This should be fun, at least.” Ben says, closing his book. “It’s been pretty boring to watch you mope around the kitchen ever since Diego split-”

“I have not been moping.” Klaus bristles, immediately cringing at how petulant he sounds. Ben makes a face to himself like he’s a character on _The Office_. “Do you think we should tell Diego about this?”

“I mean, I can only watch you knock on a locked boiler room door or cry down the end of the phone to his boss so many times before I stop telling you ‘yes, hun, you do that thing’” Ben shrugs.

“So I’ll get my coat.” Klaus nods, because he heard a ‘yes’ in there somewhere and Ben only seems to be able to physically restrain him when he’s _really_ harming himself.

And chasing after his brother who he might have misread (universal) signals from and accidentally come on to after their last family dinner, causing him to flee the academy in the dead of the night apparently never to return, didn’t qualify as bodily self-harm yet, apparently.

“No, stop, come back.” Ben murmurs, not getting up from his chair.

“This is good.” Klaus tells himself as he kicks off Allison’s slippers and weighs up changing into his converse or the pair of stripper heels he wheedled Diego into buying him at a thrift store last month, at the same time he bought him this kaftan.

Having to pretend to be an upright citizen, someone’s legal guardian (even if said person is fifty-eight years old) is a lot of pressure on his weak shoulders. It would be so easy to just sabotage all of his good progress right now and drink himself stupid. “Responsibilities, Klaus. You can be responsible.”

He hits the sidewalk in his heels and Ben is beside him again, utterly resigned to his bullshit.

“4 o’clock.” Klaus’s eyes flick to where an inconspicuous car with two suited people inside, a man and a woman, is parked on the other side of the streets. At least these two won’t torture him, probably. “Now would be a great time to test whether you can hold back from talking to yourself or acting like a crazy person for at least two blocks - you can do that, right?”

Klaus opens his mouth. He hears a car engine start up.

“Please don’t answer that.”

 

* * *

 

Diego is home when Klaus arrives, much to Diego’s horror. He’s looking like a thirst-trap in just his tank top and shorts, not covered up by any leather or sharp projectiles for a change.

“How the hell did you get a key?” Diego asks, sounding both mad and a little impressed, so Klaus takes it as a compliment when he clacks inside in his heels and Diego doesn’t immediately kick him out.

“Your boss caved when I started crying.” Klaus wipes under one eye delicately with a nail for effect, careful not to smudge his eyeliner. “Straight men never know how to handle me.”

Diego frowns, but doesn’t argue. He knows it’s true. “Give me the key, Klaus.”

“Fine.” Klaus places it in his outstretched palm, leaving his hand there and curling his fingers around Diego’s knuckles.

Diego stares at their entwined hands with a dumb look on his face for a moment too long until he snatches away from him.

“No.” Diego points the key at Klaus like he’s holding a crucifix to keep a fucking demon back from him. “Don’t even _think_ about going there, Klaus, not after-”

“Chill out, _bro_ , I’m not here to psychoanalyze your deep-rooted intimacy issues.” Klaus waves his _**Goodbye**_ -inscribed palm in Diego’s face and saunters over to sit in his shitty armchair like it’s a throne, crossing his legs. “I bring to you a breaking Hargreeves family News Bulletin. It’s about Five.”

Diego relaxes at that, all of the tension sinking out of his shoulders, which is typical and annoying, but Klaus will take what he can get at this stage. “Five? He make you pretend to be a dead hooker again?”

“No, actually, I renegotiated our terms and conditions.”

“Good for you.” Diego actually smiles then, that one-sided quirk of his lip that makes Klaus’s heart somersault whenever he’s on the receiving end of it. Klaus must be making eyes at him because Diego abruptly turns away to make some coffee, like a coward.“Want some?”

“Is your water clean or will I get lead poisoning?” Klaus asks, like he hasn’t been here before. He’s secretly gratified to see the place is a little messy, like Diego’s not taking the best care of himself, because _good_.

“It’s clean enough.” Diego washes out his coffee pot, half-facing him. “Don’t pretend like you have standards.”

Klaus keeps his gaze trained on Diego. “Yeah, I really don’t.”

Ben, hanging out by the door like a kid waiting to go home, rewards him with a finger snap.

“So what’s going on with Five?” Diego asks loudly.

“They found him.”

Diego reaches for the knives strapped to his body, before realizing there aren’t any, fingers grasping thin air. “The Commission?”

“Child services.”

“Huh.” Diego relaxes against the counter again. “We probably should have seen that coming.”

“We’re too self-interested.” Klaus sighs, and Diego nods in agreement. “He asked me to apply to be his guardian. Legally-binding.”

“You?” Diego actually looks a little put-out. Then something seems to dawn on him. “Oh, because he can use you.”

“ _No_.” Klaus rises to his feet. “I told you, I’m the one with all the - the leverage, for once. He’s contractually obliged to answer to me now. No more ‘You’re such an idiot, Klaus’, ‘Did being a junkie make you lose _all_ your brain cells or just the ones that matter?’or ‘Just sit on his lap and check if he’s concealing a weapon, it’s not hard’-”

“You get that last part in writing?”

Klaus pouts. “I have his word.”

“Sounds like you got played, baby.”

Diego seems to have dropped his guard a little, dipping back into their easy back-and-forth, like before Klaus had to go and make it all complicated. Klaus takes this as an invitation to push again.

“Nuh-uh, I laid down the rules.” He joins Diego at the counter, propping his elbow and resting his cheek in his palm. “Just like you told me to.”

“I _told_ you to stop hanging out with Five, period.” Diego corrects, packing instant coffee granules into the machine with unnecessary force. “Sounds to me like you just handcuffed yourself to him for the next five years.”

Klaus bats his eyelashes. “Jealous?”

Diego rolls his eyes, an angry vein sticking out of his neck. Klaus wants to lick it. “I don’t keep milk or sugar so don’t start your bitching.”

“Because I imagine you must have some handcuffs sitting around here, right? An old relic from the police academy you always hoped would come in handy one day, maybe we could bust ‘em out-”

Diego’s hand shoots out to grab him by the low neck of his kaftan. It’s thrilling.

“Thin ice.” Diego stares him right in the eyes, always so close. The back of his hand is warm against his bare chest and Klaus wonders if Diego can feel his heart-rate pick up. “And what the fuck have you done to this dress?”

Klaus blinks. “It’s not a dress, it’s a kaftan-”

Diego growls and shakes the offending sleeve of his kaftan in Klaus’s face. There might be a cigarette burn or five in it.

“It’s second-hand! Vintage! It was already like that, we just didn’t notice-”

“I fucking checked it, Klaus.” Diego’s nostrils flare. “To make sure I wasn’t buying any raggedy ass shit. And I bought it for you because I thought it was nice and I’m a fucking nice guy, which makes me a sucker, because you take advantage of my nice nature and pull this-”

Klaus tunes out. Being vocally shamed by Diego whilst boxed against the counter by his big, muscular biceps is almost too much for sober Klaus and his recently returned libido to handle.

“See if I treat you to good shit ever again if this is how you’re gonna repay me. You can’t take care of anything.” Diego continues, fired up. “Don’t put me down as your character reference for this adoption crap, cuz I’ll tell the CPS agent I wouldn’t trust you to make a sandwich, let alone look after a human child.”

Klaus nods and bites his lip, heart utterly flooded with affection for this stupid angry man.

“Well?” Klaus’s eyes flick back to Diego’s face. He’s worked up a sweat. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Keep yelling at me.” Klaus says, serious.

Diego eyes widen but he draws in a shaky breath like he’s ready to do just that. Klaus braces himself against the counter.

Then the instant coffee maker dings and the thread is snapped.

Diego drops his hold on Klaus and sharply spins around to grab two mugs. Klaus mourns the loss of contact like he’s had a limb cut off.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Ben is peering through the railing and looking at them with the same expression he wore that time Klaus made him binge-watch the entire first season of _Bad Girls Club_ with him.

Klaus gestures wildly behind Diego’s back, arms in the air, staring at Ben for emotional back-up: _I told you so_.

“I can’t believe he thinks that kaftan’s nice.”

“Just take better care of your shit, okay?” Diego says gruffly, still turned away from him. Klaus watches the hard muscle in his back flex as he pours coffee. There’s something heart-flutteringly domestic about it. Klaus dreams about waking up to that sight. “And take some pride in yourself, you know? You need to make a good impression if you’re serious about this legal guardian stuff.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Klaus mumbles, dejected. “I’m sure Five will tell me exactly what to wear and say and do, I just need to bring my winning personality.”

“Don’t let him make you do anything you don’t want to.” Diego says, authoritatively, which is always always makes Klaus feel a certain type of way. He hands Klaus a mug of coffee he isn’t going to drink, his big hand cupping the side of the mug, so Klaus can take the handle without burning himself. “You sure this isn’t gonna, uh, be too much pressure on you or whatever?”

Diego is looking at him with far too much concern for someone who completely erased himself from his life a whole fortnight ago.

“I don’t know, I’d say it’s good to have a distraction to calm this overactive noggin’ of mine.” Klaus smiles, tapping his head. “It’s been a little preoccupied ever since the great Gay Panic Debacle of 2019 sent you into hiding.”

“Thought you weren’t here to talk about that.” Diego mutters into his mug. Then, almost too soft to hear. “I’m not hiding from you, okay?”

“Oh really?”

“No.” Diego closes his eyes, looking physically pained. “I’m under house arrest.”

Klaus bites his lip. “Come again?”

“It’s not funny, Klaus, it’s a violation of my human rights.”

“I didn’t realize you could put bums in a squat under house arrest.”

“This is not a squat.” Diego barks, a familiar argument. “It’s that fucking asshole Beeman out to get me again. I can only go out during the day to go grocery shopping, but I can’t leave this place after three pm unless it’s some kind of emergency-” Diego holds up his wrist to show Klaus the second-hand watch on his wrist. “And you bet your ass there are emergencies – the most severe crimes take place in this city between eleven pm and three am, but he says he’ll take me to court if I leave to _save people’s lives_. Fucker wants me to fail. Isn’t that messed up?”

“Fuck the police.” Klaus says sagely, clinking his mug against Diego’s. A troubling thought occurs to him. “Is this why you haven’t been coming to family dinner?”

Diego makes an angry grunt that means _yes_.

“And you kept this a secret - why, exactly?”

Diego colors. “I didn’t exactly feel like explaining over the phone to Luther that I’m confined to my own home. He’d try to _include me_ by bringing the dinner here or something and I’m not hosting shit.”

Ben’s mouth drops open. “Wait a minute, his whole disappearing act isn’t even about you, Klaus? You _are_ self-interested-”

“No, Ben, he just has a decent alibi.” Klaus scoffs. It’s obviously about him.

“What?” Diego follows Klaus’s gaze suspiciously, then lights up. “Hey, make Ben corporeal, I wanna hang out with him too-”

“No.” Klaus says, childishly. “We’re not performing animals for your amusement, Diego.”

Diego opens his mouth to retort, then a look crosses his face and he sets his gaze downcast like a misbehaved puppy. “Did Ben, uh, see us that night-”

“No, the pros of being sober is I don’t need to have him witness every one of my...misjudgements.”

“Cool.” Diego nods, his enthusiasm for having Ben around seemingly having mellowed. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“You just don’t want me to ask him if you two bumped uglies or not.” Ben mutters. “Look, you told him your big news and you’ve got proof he isn’t locked up here having some torrid affair, can we go get ice cream now?”

“So.” Klaus tunes Ben out, tracing his finger around the rim of the coffee mug, innocently. “What did you actually _do_ to be put under house arrest? Must have been pretty rash, something set you off?”

Diego’s expression darkens. “Nothing concerning you, if that’s what you’re implying”

“Nothing? No correlation at all?”

“ _Nada_.” Diego says, using the same dangerous voice he used to use when they were kids and Klaus kept needling at him to tell him what private training Reginald put him under. He’d only done it because he wanted to tell someone about the mausoleum, back before he realized that it was just another ghost best kept in the closet. “I keep my work shit and my personal shit separate.”

Klaus supposes he can deal with being referred to as ‘personal shit’.

“Commendable, Diego, truly.”

“Klaus, look-”

Diego sets his mug down with an air of importance. Klaus steels himself. Diego’s eyes flick to his hand.

“You haven’t even taken a sip of this coffee, have you? Un- _fucking_ -believable-”

“Stop deflecting.” Klaus says, a little breathless. “You know I don’t drink it without milk and sugar, it was an empty gesture.”

Diego takes his mug and tips it wordlessly into the sink.

“Klaus, about what happened-”

“I miss you.” Klaus says honestly, taking a step towards him. He dares to take Diego’s wrist and check his watch. “Look at that, huh? Two whole hours of yardtime, jailbird, we can go out. See the sights. Buy me a slice of pie-”

Diego ducks his head. Klaus holds onto his arm, stroking his thumb in a circle over his wrist bone, like he used to do when they were teenagers and getting high in bed together. An innocent gesture, but with so much meaning behind it, if Diego ever chose to read into it.

“Huh.” Klaus can sense Ben cocking his head to one side. “Not gonna lie, I thought this was unrequited. Plot thickens.”

“So you just want my money, Klaus, is that it?” Diego asks, using that low, playful voice that Klaus had heard him pull on girls in Griddys a million times over, a voice he used to resent but now makes his chest tighten whenever Diego uses it on him.

“Yes, Diego, I want to live off of your accrued janitorial fortune.”

“It’s honest work, you bum.”

Diego doesn’t push Klaus off of him, but he doesn’t reciprocate either. Usually Diego is the one who touches him first - throwing an arm over his shoulders or leaning against him heavily, casual enough to be platonic but lingering long enough to feel like something more. Klaus doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Last time he made the first move didn’t work out so well for him.

“C’mon, don’t you want to celebrate my new responsibilities with me?” Klaus play-boxes his knuckles against Diego’s solid chest. “I won’t have as much time for you now I’m a new Father, you should log-in time with your favorite whilst you can-”

Diego places his own hands over Klaus’s, stilling him, voice gentle, like he’s talking to a little kid.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Klaus.”

“Why?” Klaus hates how whiny he sounds even to his own ears.

Diego takes him by the shoulders and holds his gaze. Klaus leans into him. “You know how fucking much I care about you, right, Klaus?

Klaus nods quickly, because Diego has shown he does, almost too many times over.

“Which is why I need you to know: I didn't mean to lead you on.”

Klaus freezes. "Lead me on?"

“I can see how you thought I was.” Diego plows on, so fucking earnest, like he isn’t breaking Klaus down into a million tiny pieces. “I should’ve had the foresight to see you were in a vulnerable place and I was, I dunno, taking care of you-”

“Damn.” Ben sounds like he’s the one who’s been punched in the gut. “He just little brother’d you.”

Klaus shoves out of Diego’s hold bitterly.

“You condescending prick.”

Diego’s face contorts. “Klaus, don’t be dramatic-”

“It’s fine, I don’t want to waste any more of your remaining daylight hours on me.”

Diego grabs his elbow. “I was _trying_ to protect you-”

Klaus laughs dryly. “Yeah? Where was that noble mindset when you put my hand down your pants?”

Diego let’s go of him like he’s been scalded. Ben jumps to his feet like he’s front row at a boxing match.

“You put it there first!”

Klaus stomps back up the steps so hard he feels his heels wobble. “You’d already popped a boner, asshole.”

Diego shoves his knuckles into his eyes in frustration. “Because you were _all over me_ when I was just trying to _talk to you_ -”

Klaus pulls out the spare key he stole off of Diego’s dresser and throws it on the ground in front of him. The angry vein on Diego’s neck pops out again.

“Keep your keys, have your space, nobly brood yourself into oblivion for all I care -” Klaus wrenches the door open. “I’m going to hang out with my favorite brother, _Five_ , without you breathing down my neck about it. Because at least he lets me know where I stand. Deuces.”

Diego doesn’t follow him and Klaus isn’t sure if that makes him angrier or not. Ben catches up to him as he storms the corridor.

  
“You know what I think?”

“What?” Klaus turns so fast he almost gives himself whiplash.

“That you should tell me what the hell actually happened.”

“Nope.” Klaus says with a pop of his lips, deciding having the mental capacity to keep Ben blocked out when he needs to is as good a motivation as any to stay sober for at least one more night.

 

* * *

 

“I just think-” Luther begins, voice wobbling a little. Allison places a hand on his forearm consolingly. “That this should have been something we discussed together. As a family.”

Five has decided to break the news about his guardianship during family dinner. Klaus glares sullenly at Diego’s empty seat across from him. It’s such a waste, he thinks, that Luther is having an emotional breakdown and Diego isn’t even here to mock him for it.

Five butters his bread, compassionless. “I see no need to play by your rules, Luther.”

“But _Klaus_?” Luther actually looks to Klaus himself to back him up. Klaus shrugs. “Really? Do you even _want_ that responsibility?”

“He made some valid points.”

“I’d like to hear them.”

Five actually snorts. “No, you do not.”

“Five.” Vanya appeals quietly, still looking apprehensive about throwing her opinion into the ring, two hands on her glass of water as if for emotional support. Five doesn’t look up. “It’s not that I don’t respect your decision, but maybe we could still talk this out all together, make a game plan-”

“You should stay with _Vanya_ , Five.” Allison claps her hands together, like she’s being helpful. Luther nods with great conviction and Vanya stiffens like petrified wood. “Vanya, you would make a great adoptive parent, on paper, plus you two are buddies, right? It could be good for you-”

“It’s not a sleepover, Allison.” Ben, who Klaus has spent all of his energy on making corporeal for a dinner he can’t even eat, says gently. Vanya gives him a small, grateful smile. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“I made my decision.” Five intones stubbornly. “I want Klaus to be my guardian and since I’m not interviewing anyone else at this table for the position, consider it case closed.”

An awkward silence descends over them, broken only by Five chewing and swallowing his bread, nonplussed.

“Think of it this way.” Klaus pipes up with a winning smile, because he hates silence, even though he knows people hate it when he breaks it even more. “We _could_ still send him away to an orphanage.”

Luther gives him a disbelieving look, like Klaus just suggested getting Five euthanized or something. “Don’t joke about that, Klaus.”

“ _Is_ it a joke?” Klaus turns to Ben, who shoots him a weary look, because he’s doing this thing where he likes to pretend to be a saint to the rest of the family. Which Klaus thinks is highly unfair, because he’s the one busting his ass keeping him around, so Ben should default to being on his side no matter what, instead of holding back his cutting asides for just Klaus to hear. “Fine, tell me what you really think when nobody else is around to hear it, you shady-”

Luther ignores them. “Five, if we had realized this was going to be a problem-”

“A slight oversight.” Five eyes flick between Luther and Allison with a disdainful look that echoes Reginald Hargreeves. Allison actually removes her hand from Luther’s arm, cowed.

“I just don’t like this-” Luther points between Klaus and Five, definitively. “You two are a bad combination. You enable the worst in each other. Five, you manipulate Klaus’s need for attention and use him for your own gain, and Klaus, you indulge his antics without moral question.”

“I’m not being _used_ , Luther, and even if I am, I have agency in my own objectification.” Klaus speaks down to Luther like he’s an idiot, not even sure why, because Diego isn’t there to be impressed or join in. “Right, Five?”

“Think of this as a character-building experience for both of us, Luther.” Five says, exasperated. “I’m swallowing my pride by contractually signing my independence over to Klaus, Klaus is stepping up to the plate by taking me on as his responsibility. Sounds like an equal playing field, if you ask me.”

“That’s nice.” Vanya smiles at Five, encouraging. Five responds by taking out a flask and drinking straight from it.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Luther holds up one hand. Five tips the flask further back in his mouth. “We all agreed to have sober dinners.” He points at Klaus. “Because of Klaus.”

“We agreed to have sober dinners _for_ Klaus, not _because_ of him.” Allison hisses, looking, not for the first time, like she wished she could still use her rumors on him.

“I didn’t sign anything.” Five says, wiping his mouth with his knuckles.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m impervious now. Your priorities change when you have a child.” Klaus lies, trying to focus on anything other than the streak of orange-brown liquid left behind on Five’s hand, throat practically burning from the phantom taste of whisky. “Allison knows what I’m talking about, right, sis?”

Allison shoots him an unimpressed look. “Team Buzzkill chiming in - I’m pretty sure the bare minimum of boxes you need to check to be an adoptive parent include being financially stable and a mature, responsible adult - Klaus, you don’t even pass the first hurdle.” She says this beseechingly, which is somehow worse than intentionally making him feel like shit. “Five, are you sure you want to waste this shot on Klaus when I think you have better options here at this table?”

“How am I meant to become a responsible adult when nobody around here lets me have any responsibilities?” Klaus might as well be shouting into the void for how little attention any of them are paying him. “Anyone? _Bueller_?”

“I’m willing to take my chances.” Five says solemnly. “Whether you and Luther approve or not.”

Vanya looks alarmed. “I think what Allison _means_ is, if Five and Klaus want to do this together, which I think is great-” She speaks directly to Five, who finally makes eye contact with her, but his expression is guarded. “Maybe there’s a way all of us can band together and turn our collective minds on how to put together the best adoption application possible?”

“That’s not what she meant at all.” Luther frowns, utterly earnest and utterly unable to read the room, as usual. “Five, and please believe me when I say this, Allison and I would be _honored_ to adopt you.”

Five looks murderous. Interestingly, so does Allison.

“Hey, big guy.” Ben hisses across the table. Luther looks over, puppy-like. “Stop. Talking.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have involved the rest of you.” Five hisses. He scrapes his chair back and stands, definitely for dramatic effect, because he disappears into thin air an instant later.

Vanya lets out a small, tortured noise and runs out after him.

“This is exactly why we can’t have sensible conversation about things.” Luther shakes his head, perplexed. “Five needs to learn how to accept honest help. From his family.”

“Hello, helpful family member, right here.” Klaus waves like Luther can’t see him. “Notice me senpai-”

“He’s just embarrassed.” Ben says diplomatically. “Leave him be for now. We’ll work it out-”

“ _Me and Allison would be honored to adopt you_?” Allison cuts over him, staring daggers at Luther. “You don’t see a problem with that statement, Luther?”

Luther’s eyes go wide and panicky, like they always did when Allison turns on him. “ _Oh_.” Klaus braces himself for the worst. “Because of everything with Claire. Would maybe make the adoption process difficult-.”

“No, Luther, not because of that.” Allison’s voice shakes with barely-constrained rage.

“Yeah, I’m out.” Ben disappears, walking straight through a wall.

“Ask me next time you volunteer my services alongside your own, okay?”

Apparently scraping one’s chair back dramatically is hereditary in this family, because Allison does it with even more aggression than Five, stalking out of the room in the direction of the front hall.

“Allison, wait-”

Luther doesn’t even bother getting out of his seat. He slumps down as soon as she’s gone. Klaus can’t even enjoy the karmic retribution, because Luther is turning to him and wearing that sad-labrador-puppy face he makes whenever things don’t go his way and he hasn’t the dickens as to why.

“Been a while since we had a classic ‘Luther-clears-the-dance-floor’ moment.” Klaus tries to say cheerfully. He’s never really known what the right thing to say to Number One, not really. Luther looks stricken. “Well, I need to, erm, _pee_ , profusely, so I’ll also be leaving-”

“I thought all of our problems would be over after the apocalypse.” Luther says in a small voice. He sounds so unsure of himself nowadays, like he’s the one who needs guidance. _I wanna be Number Four_.

Klaus makes it five steps towards the door before he halts himself, touching his throat, mind flooded with images of Luther raiding Dad’s liquor cabinet. And now _he’s_ thinking of raiding Dad’s liquor cabinet, and Ben has gone into hiding, and Diego thinks he’s a mess, and he probably should keep a wide berth of Five and his flask and his self-destructive tendencies right now.

Klaus spins around on his heel, already half-regretting this decision. “Do you want to, uh. Do a jigsaw puzzle or something?”

Luther almost knocks his chair over in excitement. Klaus supposes it’s nice that somebody wants his company, even if it comes at the cost of _nobody else in the family wanting to hang out with either of them right now_.

“So where’s Diego?” Luther asks as he hulks along beside Klaus, thankfully oblivious to how Klaus’s entire body seizes up for a moment.

“He’s-” Oh, it would be such sweet revenge to tell Luther how Diego had gotten himself put under house arrest and encourage him to give Diego a long, lengthy, in-person lecture about it. “He’s training for a match. Schedule overlaps with dinner, or something.”

“You must miss him. You two were attached at the hip for a while there.” 

“Yeah, we were, right?” Klaus laughs weakly. “Must’ve worn his patience thin. No wonder he bounced.”

 

* * *

 

Five appears whilst Klaus is in the bathtub later. Klaus yelps and pushes bubbles around to protect his modesty, then decides he doesn’t care, sinking back down in the cold water.

“Your life is too much of a mess.” Five says definitively.

“Well, we both knew that already.” Klaus squirts water at Five, hitting his cheek. He's alarmed when Five barely reacts.

“I’ve been researching ways to make you seem like a more well-adjusted, functioning adult to society.” Five slurs. There’s huge bags under his eyes and his eyes are slightly unfocused. “I’ve got nothing.”

Klaus sniffs. “God, you reek of whisky.” He leans forward, like some creature of the black lagoon. “Let me put my nose in your mouth and get a good whiff, please-”

Five inches back, almost stumbling. “Control yourself.”

“That’s rich, coming from Mr. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.” Klaus snits, though he’s a little disturbed by the state Five is in, knowing he’s probably been obsessing over adoption gameplans and uncapping whiskey bottles in the same time it took him and Luther to finish a five hundred-piece jigsaw puzzle. “Hey, you know when you got older, were you hot?”

Five’s eyes focus enough to pin a glare at him. “ _What_?”

“I’m just asking!” Klaus says, holding his hands up. He’s going somewhere with this, but he _is_ curious to know about how his long-lost brother looked at his age. It’s like having a movie spoiler for real-life. “Because if you had a glow up, you never had a chance to enjoy the attention, being in the apocalyptic wastelands and all. Aren’t you worried about poisoning yourself with alcohol as a thirteen year-old and skipping straight to looking fifty-eight again?”

“None of this matters.” Five scoffs, chin ducking down, like it’s too much effort to keep his head up. “My body hasn’t aged a day since I got back.”

Oh. Klaus has seen the chalk marks measuring Five’s height on his bedroom wall, like they used to do when they were little kids, desperate to outstrip each other (the game lost its fun once it became clear the growth spurts were over and Luther was destined to tower over all of them).

It had been haunting to see Five’s height left behind after his departure, staying the same even as the rest of them all climbed further up the wall, destined to be five-foot tall for eternity. It was unsettling to think Five couldn’t escape that prophecy even now.

“You’ll figure it out.” Klaus says, feeling useless. “You’ll be able to concentrate again when we get child services off your back. You’ll be six foot and sewing your wild oats all around the city in no time.”

“ _Sewing my oats_.” Five repeats to himself mockingly, as if this was a particularly dumb thing to say. “Then I’ll look even more pathetic”

“You’re not pathetic.” Klaus has no idea how to comfort Five. Vanya’s the only one who’s ever been able to crack that nut, and even she seemed to have failed tonight.

He wonders if that has anything to do with why Five is so utterly trashed.

“Want to tell me what’s going on with you and Vanya?” Klaus tries to ask delicately. Five looks up slowly and Klaus instantly wishes he could take it back, because Five’s mouth is quirked in a mean little smirk.

“Are _you_ going to tell me what you did to Diego?”

“What _I_ did?” Klaus squawks, water sloshing over the side of the tub as he pushes himself upright. Ben appears beside Five’s side, legs folded and back straight, like a moth to a fucking flame. Klaus sinks back down into the water again. “Nothing. It’s ancient history.”

“Good. Because I need you to pretend to be in a relationship with him.”

“ _What_?” Klaus chokes on the bath water, spluttering. “How drunk are you?”

“Very, but I came to this decision sober. Considering your past, the fact you make absolutely no money or have any property to your name and aren’t about to rectify those things in the immediate future, I need you to have some stability in your life by attaching you to somebody who does.”

“He has a point.” Ben says unhelpfully.

“Then, shit, let me go out cruising and find some rich Daddy, Five-”

“I did consider making you a sugarbaby but I ruled out bringing strangers into this.” Five says shrugs. “ _Also_ , we had an agreement about selling you or implicating you in any sexual exchanges and I have decided to respect that.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Klays says, oddly touched. “Is the threat of being sent away making your cold, dead heart realize how much you actually love us?”

“No, if anything it makes me resent you all even more.” Five says. “Diego is the closest thing to a member of regular society this family has – he actually has a job, for one thing. And his knowledge of the legal system may come in handy. Plus, he’s the muscle.”

Ben looks concerned. “Why would we need muscle?”

“But you said it yourself, Five.” Klaus can hear that he’s whining again but he can’t stop himself. “Diego is still a menace to society; he dwells in the lair of a boxing gym like he’s the freakin’ _Phantom of the Opera_ on steroids, he practically sleeps on a bed made out of knives, and all he has in his refrigerator are eggs-”

“You two pass for a couple.” Five interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose like he does when he wants Klaus to stop talking. It works, because Klaus is pretty sure his brain short-circuits for a moment. Even Ben doesn’t make a smart comment.

“So do Allison and Luther.” Klaus recovers, weakly. “Who _are_ a couple. I think.”

Five rolls his eyes. “They’re too skittish. Still haven’t gotten the deed over with and boned yet. If I asked them to actually present as a real couple, I know they’d blow it for me.”

“Huh.” Klaus sits back. “Diego’s on house arrest.”

“Perfect way to begin a redemption narrative, if you ask me.” Five says, perking up a little now that he has some direction. “A man rehabilitating not only a wayward orphan, but the guardian of the orphan too, finding love after denying themselves for all these years.”

“A little Lifetime, Five, but you do have a way with words.” Klaus sighs, running his hands through his hair. “He’ll say no.”

“He always says no at first, but then he gives in. He has a weak heart.” Five says, like this is a good thing. Klaus wonders if Five has a spreadsheet detailing all of their statistics and weak spots, or if he keeps it all in his head, sociopath-style. “Like you.”

Klaus thinks of Diego’s hands on his, gently telling him they shouldn’t spend time together for a while. He’s suddenly aware of how icy cold the water is around him.

“Why would you pin your hopes on me and Diego?”

“Because I think you’ll pull it off.” Five says, sincerely, and it might be the closest he’s ever come to complimenting Klaus. It only took him a bottle of whiskey or three. “Now do you want to tell Diego or shall I?”


	2. Chapter 2

They tell Diego together, and Klaus reserves his energy to make Ben corporeal too, even though he doesn’t want to be there. 

Diego stares at the three of them with wide-eyed disbelief, drinking a protein shake straight from the blender. 

“Pretend relationship?” He says slowly, scanning their faces. “Me and Klaus?”

“I don’t see what the issue is.” Five says impatiently. He’s been hungover to hell all day and Klaus watched him fall flat on his ass when he teleported into his bedroom this afternoon, putting the old man in an even worse mood than usual. “You’re single, aren’t you?”

“You don’t know that.” Diego says testily. 

Five scans the room with disdain. “Yes, I do.”

“But why me?” Diego’s eyes land on Klaus, accusingly. 

“It’s all Five’s idea.” Klaus groans, tired of being dragged along on these schemes and getting the brunt of the blame just for showing up. He could be home watching The Carol Burnett Show reruns and not having to deal with Diego’s stupid, suspicious, sexy face right now. “So don’t flatter yourself, Diego, I’m just being a good team-player.” 

“It is all my idea.” Five agrees gamely. “Klaus wanted it to be with someone else, but I had to convince him you were our best option.”

And maybe Klaus does need to give Five more credit, because something almost imperceptible shifts in Diego’s expression then. 

“Makes sense.” Diego gulps down his smoothie all in one go and slams the blender down on the counter. “Outsiders could jeopardize things. Best to keep it in the family.”

“That should be our family motto at this rate.” Klaus jokes, turning to Ben for back-up. Ben gives him a withering look. “That would’ve hit better if Allison and Luther were here.”

Diego looks equally unamused. “You _sure_ you don’t wanna ask Vanya, Five-”

Five actually stamps his foot on the floor, vexed. “We are not involving Vanya in this matter, it’s too much of a risk. Should I ask Luther, Diego?”

It’s a gambit, but Five knows them all too well, because Diego’s whole body tenses up. 

“Klaus and Luther?” Diego scoffs, making a show of rolling his shoulders as if to physically shrug the notion off of him. “No freakin’ way anybody would buy that. People think me and Klaus are a couple all the time.”

Klaus hates how his heart swells a little at how Diego indicates his thumb between them, like it’s a point of pride. Oh, he’s got it bad. 

“So you’ll do it?” Five says. 

Diego clearly hasn’t thought that far ahead. “I don’t want you making me complicit in any of your little schemes, Five.”

“My only _scheme_ here is nipping this guardianship issue in the bud before I end up in the foster system.” Five bites back. “God knows how long it would take you idiots to get me out again.”

“Who are you calling an idiot?”

Klaus puts a hand on Five’s shoulder before he can answer that. The tell-tale sign of Diego’s angry neck vein is back with a vengeance. “Five says please.”

“Pretty please.” Ben adds, being helpful for once as Five seethes in-between them. “With a cherry on top.”

“Bro.” Diego says, to Ben. “Level with me, what do you think?”

“I think you’ve got nothing better to do, man.”

“Bro.” Diego repeats, stricken. 

“Why does everyone want _Ben’s_ opinion all the time?” Klaus says to nobody in particular. “Wait til he starts telling you how he _really_ feels, then you’ll all come crying to me to send him away again-”

Five disappears and Klaus almost stumbles when his hand meets thin air, saved only by Ben’s arm reaching out to steady him. 

“What were you saying about sending me away, Klaus?”

Klaus blows him a kiss. “I appreciate you?”

Five materializes at Diego’s heel, crouched down and lifting his sweats up to inspect the ankle monitor on his left leg. 

“Yo, fuck off.” Diego says, kicking at Five like he’s an underfoot pigeon. 

“I’ll get that disabled and taken off for you, if you do this for me.” Five says, straightening up and dusting his hands. “I would offer you other things but you’re clearly not swayed by material possessions, if your living space is anything to go by.”

“It’ll come off when it comes off, I’m not cutting any corners. And just for the record, Five, I don’t need to be _bought_.” Diego says defensively, and Klaus is taken off-guard when Diego’s eyes meet his again. “I’ll do it.”

“Seriously?” Klaus asks, going stiff. A part of him always knew Diego would cave, but he’s purposely been avoiding thinking about this part, the reality of Diego tailspinning back into his life, even if it is all for pretend. Klaus has had a lot of practice at acting like he’s fine and dandy, but Diego’s always been the hardest to fool. 

“Fuck it, fostering a snot-nosed kid might even keep Beeman off my back for a while.” Diego shrugs, a little too aggressively to look casual. “How long would I have to play house for?”

Klaus tries to ignore the mental images that _playing house_ with Diego conjures in his mind, a little disturbed by the flashes of himself in Grace’s apron and Diego dressed in one of Dad’s old suits. Even with a slightly better handle on the ghosts and voices, his sober brain still often a dangerous terrain to navigate.

“Two to three weeks, give or take.” Five’s brusque voice snaps him back to reality. “I’ve already submitted your joint guardianship request on your behalves.”

“‘Course you did.” Diego says sourly. Klaus wants to make a comment along the lines of _‘Now who’s been played?’_ but has just enough sense to keep it to himself. Diego still looks a second away from kicking them all out of his swamp. “And what’s the plan if we’re rejected?”

“We’re exuberantly wealthy, worst case scenario we make some pay-offs. I’ll handle that part.” Five waves his hand, vaguely. “And maybe get Allison to rumor some judge, she has to start using her powers for good again some day.”

Klaus didn’t think Allison would be thrilled to have her will-power tested whilst she was trying to overcome her _own_ addiction by Five demanding she become his accomplice in bribery and fraud, especially under the guise that it was for some greater good, but that wasn’t his priority right now.

“We’re not exactly dripping in jewels, Five, Pogo is still holding our inheritance by the purse strings.” Klaus gripes. “I know you all hate Sibling Court and Luther heading it like he thinks he’s Judge Judy, but can we hold one to talk about our finances already? I have to ask Allison for an allowance every Monday, it’s demeaning-”

Diego and Five go very quiet. Even Ben turns shifty, not looking at Klaus, as if he’s in any position to avoid him. 

“Guys?” Klaus feels a strange pit form in his stomach, trying for humor. “Pogo _is_ still sitting on top of our inheritance money like _Smaug_ in his lair, right?”

Diego lets out a low whistle. Five massages his temples, looking beleaguered and grey in the face. 

“I’m talking to you bitches-”

“I’ll make sure you get your share after we’re done with this.” Five sighs, hands on his hips, like Klaus has driven some hard bargain with him. “I suppose it’s fair.”

“No, Five.” Diego erupts, actually looking mad. “You can’t decide that kind of thing without asking everyone-”

“It’s about time he knew, he’s proven he can behave himself, he’s been sober for three weeks-”

“Three months.” Ben chimes in, stern. 

Klaus watches them argue like he isn’t even there, barely processing what’s happening. For one disorienting moment he feels like he’s he’s high again, his brain buzzing whilst overlapping voices ring in his ears.

“Ben?” Klaus blinks out of it, trying to catch Ben’s wrist, frowning when his hand goes straight through him. “Ben, what the hell are they talking about?”

Ben looks so guilty that Klaus wonders if he’s actually dreaming. “I didn’t know for sure, I swear, I just overheard a few things.” Ben says, voice low and calm like it is when he’s trying to convince Klaus not to do something stupid, but it sounds distant. “Klaus, I don’t approve of this, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

Klaus closes his eyes and covers his ears with his hands. “Yeah, yeah, you all made another group decision about another sibling and kept them in the dark about it, it’s fine, I don’t care, just be glad I can’t pull a Vanya and bring on a second apocalypse.”

Everything goes silent in his head for a moment. It’s startling. He doesn’t think his mind has ever felt so empty before, it almost feels like a place he wants to spend time in-

“Klaus.” A hand on his shoulder, warm and strong and definitely belonging to Diego. “Klaus, where’s Ben?”

Klaus opens his eyes to see Diego and Five have stopped arguing, staring at him. Diego’s face is closer than he realized, brow crinkled with a concern that’s suddenly overwhelming.

“Ben? Ben’s right-” 

Klaus looks around, deftly stepping out from under Diego’s touch, turning on his heel to get a look around the room, but he can’t see Ben anywhere. Which isn’t too abnormal. Ben does this, sometimes, disappears or walks through walls or lets Klaus block him out for a while to have some privacy. They’re not always together, but they are always linked, somehow, in a way neither of them have fully grasped yet. Klaus knows Ben is always close by, can feel his presence even if he knows he’s in some hidden, ghostly realm. 

What’s unsettling now is that he can’t sense Ben at all.

“Klaus?” Diego again, sounding almost nervous, which means he’s a second away from getting angry.

“Ben’s by the door, he wants a milkshake.” Klaus lies, staring at the empty doorway. His own stomach rumbles. “Got any advil, Diego?”

“Are you allowed-”

Five transports to a cupboard and finds the goods, taking out two pills for himself and swallowing them down dry. Klaus supposes it’s better than pairing them with whatever’s left in his flask today. Five appears at his side, giving him one tablet and pocketing the rest of the packet for himself. Klaus doesn’t miss the way Five’s left foot shakes as he braces himself on the ground, slightly off-kilter.

“Put a pin in this for now, I don’t have time for anymore drama.” Five tells Klaus, like he’s chastising a misbehaving child. Klaus would probably have taken offence if he wasn’t too preoccupied sending out feelers to Ben. “Thank you for your cooperation, Diego, I’ll be in touch.”

“You’re leaving?” Diego tears his eyes away from Klaus to glare at Five. “To do what?”

“Business.” Five says simply, not bothering to look at him. “Forge some birth certificates, a medical history, general paperwork for creating a false identity.” 

“Just another Saturday ni-” Klaus trails off, dropping his advil. “Jesus, Five, your nose is bleeding.”

“What?” Five gives Klaus a skeptical look, as if Klaus is just trying to cause more _unnecessary drama_ for him, then frowns when he wipes his face and catches sight of the startlingly red blood on his fingertips. “Huh. Guess it is.”

Diego already has a tube of kitchen roll in his hands and he’s tossing it to Klaus, who catches it without thinking twice, ripping more paper than is really needed to move forward and dab under Five’s nose. 

“Get off.” Five shrugs Klaus away, which is to be expected at this point, but still a little hurtful. He grabs the paper to clean himself up and stuffs a wad of it up one nostril. Some of the blood has already dripped onto the white of his uniform shirt, standing out starkly against the crisp white. 

“Have you ever sprung a fountain from your nose after apparating before?” 

“Don’t fuss, Klaus, nobody ever died from a nosebleed.” Five mutters, voice all nasally from his blocked nose and highly non-threatening. “And for the last time, stop calling it apparating. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Klaus snorts. “Nuh-uh, Benjamin Button, no more _micro jumps_ for you today. You’re getting the bus home with me.” 

“Screw the bus, I’m driving you.” Diego is by Klaus’s side suddenly, solid and warm, leaning down to get a good look at Five. “That’s a lot of blood, buddy.”

Five is uncompromising, spitting. “I have places to be.”

“Like where?” Diego demands, then shakes his head. “Wherever it is, it can wait. You’re coming with us.”

“Yeah.” Klaus agrees, a little breathless in the face of Diego’s sudden exertion of patriarchal dominance. “Don’t you have to listen to your gay Dads now?” 

Five gives them the same look Klaus had once seen a dog make right after its owner told it not to swallow a used tampon it found on the street. 

“Wait-”

Klaus’s hand grabs a fistful of thin air and exhales an exasperated breath, arm dropping back down to his side. 

“I _hate_ when he does that.”

“Stubborn little bastard.” Diego hisses, standing up straight and kicking at nothing. 

“That’s our boy.” Klaus says, staring at the advil he dropped on the floor despondently. Moving from his current position is not an appealing prospect - he’s uncomfortably aware that this is the first time he and Diego have been alone together since _that_ night. 

_Hey Ben_ , he sing-songs in his mind. _Sorry I followed through on that whole sending you away threat, ‘kay, Benny boy? Feel free to come back anytime you want now_.

Klaus is met by a whole lot of _nothing_ in response, aside from a trap-door full of Diego’s own deceased rogues gallery in his periphery, which he’s just about able to keep at bay. They’re not a fun crowd.

“Yeah.” Diego says in a strange voice. Klaus’s eyes go back to the door, wondering if he should just makes a run for it. He probably wouldn’t make it out. His nerves are shattered from the mental energy it took to keep Ben present and he feels a little faint from trying to find him again. Diego catching him mid-sprint and body-slamming him to the ground, platonically, isn’t doing it for him right now.

“This really wasn’t my idea, y’know.” Klaus says, biting the bullet and turning to face Diego.

To his surprise, Diego looks exhausted too. “I know. I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon after yesterday; haven’t seen you that mad since I sliced the stuffing out of one of your teddy bears when we were twelve.”

“Mr. Whiskers.” Klaus said, a hand going to his heart. He remembers shrieking like a banshee until Diego was covering his mouth and apologizing and hissing that Dad was going to kill them _both_ if Klaus didn’t calm the fuck down, staying pressed against his back and pinning him to the floor long after Klaus’s breathing had gone quiet and steady. “All I did was eat the dessert Mom left out for you whilst you were getting punished, you didn’t have to take it out on him.”

“You were too old for cuddly toys anyway.” Diego snorts, like he didn’t still sleep with the baby blanket Mom made for him. “And I was angry ‘cause you got high and ate it, if you were just hungry I wouldn’t have had to teach your selfish ass a lesson.”

“It _did_ give me the novel idea to start smuggling drugs in my plushies though, so-” Klaus pauses. “I guess that’s not really a silver lining, is it?”

The wry smile falls from Diego’s face and Klaus misses it instantly. “Look, Klaus, about the inheritance stuff, we were all just looking out for you-”

 _Fuck-up, junkie, can’t be trusted_. “It’s fine.” Klaus says, acting, because now’s a good as time as any to start rehearsing for his role as being totally okay with this turn of events. “I should probably head back and wait for Five to get home. Make sure he’s not...bleeding out”

Diego looks irritated again. “What the hell does he get up to all day?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Klaus sighs, thankful for the subject change. “Gambling. Extortion. I think he was caught up in some arms deal with the Russians last week-”

“But why?” Diego presses, pacing restlessly across his room and reminding of Klaus of a caged tiger. He supposes that’s what Diego is right now. “Why does he need to do all of that shit? He’s lucky it’s just child services that have noticed him and not the cops, or worse, the feds - and who’s he gonna crawl to when that happens? Us. And you don’t need anymore criminal attention, okay?”

Klaus shifts uncomfortably, ready to leave again. He knows Diego means well. He does. But the voices in his own mind are cloying, louder now that Ben isn’t around to take up his attention and off-set them. 

_Criminal, basket-case, failure._

“I think he just needs something to do?” Klaus says honestly, trying to keep his eyes focused on Diego, which is hard because Diego looks like he wants to hit him upside the head. “And there’s something going on with him and Vanya, long story, don’t ask, so he needs to let out a little steam-”

“Why are you defending him?”

Klaus isn’t really sure what Five has done to inspire this sudden loyalty in him either. Maybe the thinly-veiled judgement in Diego’s eyes is a little too familiar. “He’s traumatized, okay? Give him a break.”

Diego’s eyebrows jump incredulously. “Give him a break? He’s drunk and bleeding and heading out to do God knows what kind of illegal shit and you want me to give him a _break_?”

“Hey.” Klaus holds out his hands appeasingly, uncomfortable whenever anyone directs anger at him, intentional or not. “You know, for being so reluctant, you’re slipping into this whole Dad role pretty easily, it’s uncanny really, slap on a British accent on you and you’re good to go-”

“Can you take anything seriously, Klaus?”

Diego seems to realize what he’s said as soon as the words ring in the air, face changing, but it’s too late, Klaus has already internalized it like a knife to the stomach. 

“Guess not.” 

“Klaus, wait.” 

Klaus can’t believe he’s found himself in this position with Diego again, Diego’s hand on him as he tries to flee. Diego clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

“You realize I’m only going along with this whole adoption scheme for you right?”

_Irresponsible, stupid, selfish._

“Oh, this is all for me?” Klaus smiles, tasting venom, sharp and ugly. “Just like _moving out_ of the academy in the dead of the night after you told me we would talk about what happened _in the morning_ was all for me?”

Diego sets his jaw. “Look, I know I could have handled it better-”

“No, wait, I’m sorry - I should be thanking you, right?” Klaus puts two hands on his chest beseechingly as he backs away. “Thank you, Diego, for protecting my fragile little feelings so well. Ten out of ten for emotional intelligence-”

Diego follows after him, looking like he wants to cover Klaus’s mouth and pin him to the ground until he calms down again, just like when they were kids. 

“Klaus, come on, the ride home is still on the table.”

“Is it, Diego?” Klaus asks, buying time as he backs up the stairs. “Is it really?”

Diego frowns, not getting it. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“What time is it?” Klaus grasps the door handle, pulling it open. 

Diego checks his watch. “Six thirty-”

Klaus moonwalks out of the boiler room, hands in the air. “Uh-oh, can’t touch this.”

Diego looks ready to kill. “Come back inside. Now.”

“No.” Klaus sticks out his tongue.

“We need to talk.” Diego yells after him, whole body save for his ankles wrapped around the side of the door. “Don’t be such a goddamn _baby_ -”

“Can’t hear you.” Klaus hollers back, drawing the attention of some muscle bros filling their water bottles in the corridor. He’s about to make a comment, or flirt with the one in the stringy vest because they’re still in Diego’s line of vision, when he backs straight into Diego’s boss. 

“I will ban you.” Al growls, hand firm on his shoulder. Klaus hasn’t been touched in a while and he leans into it, just for kicks, so Al whips back from him like he’s been scalded. Oh, straight men. “I told Diego I don’t want any more of his _freak family_ in my gym-”

“Sorry, I just adopted a kid with him.” Klaus pats Al on the chest, beaming when his face turns an alarming shade of puce. “I’m sure he’d love to tell you all about it.”

“ _Klaus_!”

 

 

“For what it’s worth.” Vanya looks tired and sad, which is a highly relatable mood for Klaus. “I voted against it.”

Klaus nods. “And who voted for?” 

Vanya sighs. “The opposition won by a landslide. I’m sorry, Klaus.”

“It’s okay.” Klaus plasters on a fake smile and pats her hand. “I’m highly irresponsible and can’t be trusted, especially with fiscal matters. I’m sure they think they have my interests at heart.” 

“ _Think_ , being the operative word.” Vanya gives him a small, but infectious, grin. “Maybe this could be a good learning opportunity for everyone, on learning how to communicate properly without keeping secrets from each other? Preferably without having a voting system.”

They’re in Vanya’s apartment, which Klaus thinks is darling, even if he would like to liven the place up a bit with a splash of color or some fairy lights. He hadn’t set out to come here after leaving Diego’s, had gotten on the bus like he said he would, but his head had been aching and he could hear the slithering, rattling cries of _Klaus_ , _Klaus_ , _Klaus_ creeping forward into his mind and he couldn’t deal with it, not tonight, not with his self-control already slipping away and the unshakeable reality that he was all alone. 

And all of the possibilities that came with that. 

He had stumbled off of the bus when he recognized the avenue that Vanya’s apartment was on, even if it was twenty blocks away, promising himself that he remembered her number even if it did mean trying every buzzer in the building. She took a moment to answer and for a moment Klaus was truly terrified, hadn’t realized how vulnerable a position he had dropped himself into if she wasn’t home, if this was the wrong apartment, if he was faced with getting home safe and sober from here. 

“Hello?” Vanya’s distorted, hesitant voice over the intercom sounded practically heavenly. 

“You ordered a stripper?”

A pause, almost long enough for Klaus to hit the buzzer again and start groveling, then.

“Klaus?”

He had apologized for dropping by so late, excuses already on the tip of his tongue, but to his immense surprise, Vanya looked relieved to see him, pulling him into a tight embrace that Klaus had all but sank into. She had already been brewing a pot of chamomile tea for herself (“Stress relief?” Klaus had said, taking the proffered cup, and Vanya had given him a knowing look).

“It’s so hard to be an empath in a family of – I don’t know what they are, non-empaths.” Klaus laments, biting into a cookie from the tray Vanya had set out and groaning, stuffing the rest of it in his mouth. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. “These cookies are good. More than good, I feel like my mouth just had an orgasm. A mouthgasm, if you will.”

“Thanks, I’ve been trying out some recipes.” Vanya says, looking amused as she sips her tea. “Something to keep the mind occupied.”

“Oh, I feel you, sister.” Klaus agrees, with maybe a little too much emphasis.

“How’s it been?” She asks softly, holding his gaze. Her brown eyes have always been a little too perceptive for his liking and he’s trying to learn how to deal with them up close, instead of exchanging worried looks with her from the sidelines, always a distance apart. “You always say you’re fine when anyone asks, but how is it, really?”

 _Fine_ , the word is on his lips. 

“Hell.” He admits, playing with the dark threads lacing his pant together. His mind is a little calmer now but his nerves are still shot. “You know what the thing they always tell you in rehab is? ‘Celebrate your success’. Celebrate every moment you’re drinking tea instead of shooting up. Have a cupcake. Do a dance. Be kind to yourself.” He laughs, scratchy and dull. “Can you imagine Dad’s reaction if he knew I was _celebrating_ myself? God, I can just feel that cane on the back of my knees.”

Vanya only nods, like she somehow understands. “It’s hard to learn new things when you’re so busy trying to unlearn the past.” She traces a circle on the wood of her tabletop, looking away. “It affects all of us differently, but I think we’re all stunted from that.”

“Stunted.” Klaus repeats, reaching for another cookie. Maybe he should have come to Vanya sooner. It’s validating to talk about this with the only sibling who’s had even more therapy than himself “Makes sense. No wonder we keep distracting ourselves by trying to learn new things anyway. Me and Ben do yoga now. It’s awful.”

“Really? I thought you’d be good at yoga.”

“Me too.” Klaus closes his eyes, trying not to think about whether Ben will be setting up his yoga mat tomorrow morning. “I have a weak core.” 

“I could teach you violin sometime?”

Klaus blinks, perking up. “Really?”

“Yeah. But only if you want.” Vanya says anxiously. “I haven’t touched my violin since…you know. It might be nice to learn how to love it again. With somebody who I can trust.”

“Vanya.” Klaus actually feels himself welling up. It’s been a long day. “I think my heart just grew fives sizes this day. I’d like that.”

Vanya ducks her head, but looks pleased. “Cool. I would too.”

A silence falls, but it’s not an unpleasant one. Vanya’s lips press together like she’s struggling to form the words for what she wants to say next. Klaus has a feeling he knows what’s coming. It might have been the real reason that he found himself attuned to Vanya’s apartment tonight.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something for a while now.” Vanya begins eventually, biting her lip. “How’s Five?”

Vanya looks so concerned that Klaus doesn’t have the heart to open with Five currently being missing, hungover and liable to spring a nosebleed at any moment. 

“Wouldn’t you know better than me?” He asks carefully, feeling like Ben. _What happened between you two?_.

Vanya gives him a reproachful look. “He doesn’t really tell my anything nowadays.”

“I guessed that from how he has an aneurysm anyone suggests you get involved in this adoption stuff.” Klaus says, making her wince. 

“I don’t know what I did.” Vanya moans, looking so small in her chair when she leans forward in it to prop her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands. “I got so used to seeing him in my apartment every day and then he just. Wasn’t there.”

“Must’ve been hard.” Klaus says, voice strained, blocking out the image of Diego’s empty bedroom. “I always wondered, what did you two crazy kids do for fun, anyway?”

Vanya blushes in a way that makes Klaus fear she’s about to confess they had tantric monkey sex. 

“Crossword puzzles.” She says in a small voice, eyes filling with remorse. “It was...stimulating.”

Klaus clears his throat. “Stimulating?”

“Intellectually.” Vanya says sharply, giving him a pointed look. “Now I fill out these crosswords by myself and every time I struggle, I just think about he would probably know, or if he didn’t, he’d make a big to-do about how we’d work it out without cheating. The dumb thing is, I don’t even like crosswords.”

“He doesn’t tell me shit.” Klaus says, which is more or less true, aside from Five’s drunken confession about not growing. _Stunted_ , in more ways than one. Something about that feels too personal to share with Vanya though, another knock to Five’s already dented pride. “Even when I was going along with his little shenanigans because he needed me to be a distraction or a look out - always disguised as a hooker, never asked why - he only told me some guy owed him money or a favor or something shady like that.”

Vanya bites her thumbnail, looking distant. “I feel like he’s hiding something.”

“You know how obsessive he gets.” Klaus still isn’t sure why he’s defending Five. “He’s fixating on this guardianship to give him something to do, _occupied_ , he probably doesn’t want to - stress you out with it?”

“That’s just it though.” Vanya’s brow furrows. “What if this whole adoption thing is a cover-up?”

“A cover-up?” Klaus huffs a laugh, feeling unsettled. “For what? I saw the CPS agents outside the house.”

Vanya doesn’t seem convinced. “I don’t know what. Just a feeling. I always try to warn him off going out at night and trailing after – I don’t even know who he trails after, or associates with, but I don’t think they’re good people. I’m worried he’ll get hurt.”

That hits a little too close to home for Klaus. He thinks of Diego, bruised and beaten in some shady alleyway, left for dead. He hums, trying to sound non-committal. “Yeah, it’s a bad vibe.”

“Hey.” The look Vanya gives him is surprisingly hard and Klaus can’t suppress the shiver that goes runs his spine. “If you knew Five was in trouble, you’d tell me, right?”

“Yeah.” He says, with a confidence he doesn’t feel. “No more secrets.”

“Thank you, Klaus.” Vanya says, melting into a smile that’s so grateful that it makes Klaus’s heart ache. “Thank you for looking out for him.”

“Of course.” Klaus swallows, standing up to leave and resolving to pluck up the courage to have a talk with Five tomorrow. He hopes he’ll come home to find him writing on the walls or passed out in his bed, because the alternative means he’s still out in the dark streets on a single-minded mission. “Just call me his guardian angel.”

Vanya gives him another hug before he heads out, pushing a jar of cookies into his hands and pulling back to pin him in place with her eerily perceptive eyes.

“Just make sure to look after yourself too, okay?”

Klaus laughs, which probably isn’t the right response to that sentence, grabbing for the door handle so he doesn’t have to see any more worry in her face. “Keep that diary free for my violin lessons!”

Klaus almost falls down Vanya’s apartment steps in relief when he finds Ben waiting outside the front door, having a friendly stare-off with a cat. Animals can see him, for some reason, even when people can’t. One of Ben’s first requests for being made corporeal again was going to a park to pat all of the dogs.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey.” Ben says, watching the cat wind around his immaterial legs and dip away into the streets. “I think you banished me from the human world for a hot minute, or something. Then I heard you telling Vanya she gave you a mouthgasm and I was back here.”

“Sorry.” Klaus tells him, because there’s nothing else to say. “I didn’t mean to send you to some spooky ghost realm. I think I was just hangry?”

“No biggie.” Ben shrugs, flicking Klaus’s temple solidly, which _hurts_ , and Klaus knows they’re okay again. “I’m sorry too.” 

 

 

“You sucked his dick and it got weird?”

Klaus keeps his eyes closed, trying to think peaceful thoughts. He doesn’t have any to latch onto. “No.”

“Higher or lower?”

“What?”

“On a scale of first base to fourth base.” Ben begins calmly, on all fours in a perfect downward facing dog position. Bastard. “How far did you get with Diego?”

“That’s a heterosexual code and I refuse to place myself anywhere on it, Ben.” Klaus says primly, a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek. He’s trying to strengthen his core. It’s still weak, like the rest of him, but at least he found a dead German yoga teacher called Rainbow to help him out on this one.

“So you haven’t even cleared first base, got it.”

“You don’t know my life.”

He can practically hear Ben rolling his eyes. “Uh huh.”

“Don’t bend at the knee.” Klaus stiffens instinctively when he feels Rainbow’s cold, ghostly hands at his hips, pulling him up higher until his legs are shaking. “You’re being too easy on yourself, liebchen.”

“Easy on myself?” He mutters, tempted to call it quits and give up on yoga forever. The only thing keeping him holding on is how doing basic yoga poses actually does help to clear his mind in the mornings, but mostly because he’s determined to get one over on Ben, not because of positive endorphins or any feeling of self-satisfaction. 

“You have excellent posture, Ben.”

“Thank you, Rainbow.”

Klaus collapses against his yoga mat. 

“I don’t get what you’re still sulking about.” Ben says later, when it’s time to cool down. “I thought being close to Diego again was what you wanted.”

“Not like this.” Klaus whines to his feet, assessing the chipped black varnish on his toenails. He’s probably overdue some self-care. “Not when he thinks I’m still hung up on him like some lovesick schoolgirl.”

Ben just gives him a _look_ , which is somehow more cutting than any of his comments.

Klaus huffs. “How am I supposed to pretend to be in a relationship with him when I can’t even pretend to not hate him right now?” 

Ben clicks his tongue. “You don’t hate him.”

“No.” Klaus acquiesces, bringing his knee up to stretch and ending up resting his cheek on it. “I don’t.”

Ben is silent long enough that Klaus starts to get nervous. 

“What?”

“Klaus.” Ben squints at him. “You didn’t.”

Klaus is suddenly very aware of his quickening heartbeat, and it’s not from the exercise. “What?”

“Did you-” Ben cuts off, running a hand down his face. “ _Please_ tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Did you tell Diego you loved him?”

Klaus’s face must speak for itself, because Ben’s mouth hangs slack.

“He took it the wrong way!” Klaus is on his hands and knees, ignoring the oncoming ache in his bones as he tries to plead his case to Ben. “I didn’t mean it like that. We’d eaten dinner, were in his room, had just finished throwing darts at the picture of Dad we put up on his dartboard-”

“Like how all great romances start.”

“He was going out for his usual vigilante crusade, was just about to leave out of the window, I asked him to bring me back breakfast, ‘cause you know he gets back at six and I’m always awake, and we had this A _adorable_ back-and-forth about my cholesterol count, but he finally agreed, and then I said-” Klaus bangs his forehead against the yoga mat. “I said ‘Thanks, Batman, I love you’”

“That’s it?” Ben deadpans, looking ready to cancel his subscription to Klaus’s life. “Then what, gay panic set in?”

“No, first I caught him before he almost fell out of the window.” Klaus sighs, pushing himself up again. “Then the worst thing happened, Ben. He _reciprocated_.”

And Ben was back in. “How?”

“He took a step towards me, all serious, and before I could take it back, he said-” Klaus takes Ben’s shoulder, deepening his voice. “Klaus-”

“Don’t do the voice, you’re ruining it for me.”

“Ugh fine.” Klaus steels himself. “He said _‘Klaus’_.”

“That’s it? He said your name?”

“It was the _way_ he said it, Ben.” Klaus moans, aggrieved. “Why weren’t you there?”

“Excuse me for helping Mom do the dishes instead of running off to flirt with my siblings like the rest of you.”

Klaus supposes that’s a good excuse. “Look, he said my name, all low and sexual, and - and he was looking at me, like he was going to say it back, Ben, I swear he had this crazy look in his eye-”

“Woah.” Ben leans closer. “Then what happened.”

Klaus winces. “I kissed him before he could say anything?”

“You did _what_?”

“I panicked, okay? You know I do things like that when I panic, it’s called survival mode.” Klaus holds up a finger before Ben can find another, meaner name for it. “Then _he_ panicked and pulled away, started rambling all this crap about me being vulnerable and confused, but I look down and he’s flying half-mast - which is honestly flattering, I didn’t think it was that great a kiss - so I say ‘Is that a boner or are you just happy to see me?’ then _he_ panics and puts my hand on it-”

“Made it to second base then.” 

“Well, no, because then I stupidly say-” Klaus closes his eyes for the final kicker. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, _oh_.” Klaus rolls flat on his back on the yoga mat and throws an arm over his face. “That hit like a cold shower. He completely closed off. Went into Big Brother mode and said we’d talk in the morning.”

“And he bounced.”

“Which meant no breakfast.”

“That’s weak.”

“And now I’m adopting Five with him.” Klaus lets out a high, miserable laugh, pressing his palm into his right eye socket. “Everything would’ve been so much easier if I just jacked him off.” 

“You need to talk to him, Klaus.” Klaus doesn’t need to see Ben to know he’s looking down at him with a mixture of pity and disappointment, a lethal cocktail. “Preferably without flouncing out of the room next time.”

 

 

As fate would have it, Diego is sitting on his window ledge when he returns to his bedroom, looking like a PG-13 version of his normal leather-daddy self in just a black v-neck and jeans.

“I got here as soon as I could.” Diego begins before Klaus can say anything, stepping into the room and holding out his watch. “See? I headed out the moment it hit nine on the dot to give you these.”

Diego reveals a bouquet of yellow roses from behind his back, thrusting them towards Klaus with purpose. 

“Wow.” Ben rounds the doorway, takes in the scene, and walks out again before Klaus can call him in for back-up. Traitor.

“What’s the occasion?” Klaus takes the flowers slowly, giving Diego a questioning look. 

“You were always making me buy fresh flowers for the front hall to brighten the place up.” Diego says, looking unsure what to do with his hands now, awkwardly hooking his thumbs in his jean pockets. “I figured that vase has been sitting empty for a while.”

The vase is not empty. A dead bouquet of tulips has been sitting in it for two weeks to signify Klaus’s wilted heart. 

“And the guy in the florist said yellow roses are good for apologies.” Diego continues, scratching his neck. “I know you care about the meanings and shit.”

Klaus ducks his head into the flowers so Diego can’t see his face, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. He thinks he’ll steal the vase and keep these for his bedroom, this once. “You’re forgiven.”

“What?” Diego might be the only man in the world who could sound mad about getting their apology accepted. “You can’t just go and forgive me just like that, you don’t even know what I’m saying sorry for.”

Klaus cracks one eye open. “For the inheritance-?” 

“Yeah, that’s one thing.” Diego interrupts, looking tormented. “That was a pretty fucked-up thing we all did, keeping you in the dark about the money like that. I see that now. Vanya tried to stop us-”

“Yeah, I talked to her about it already.” Klaus tries to say casually, but his stomach is turning, like it always does when faced with something he doesn’t want to deal with. He sniffs the flowers again to calm himself down. “We bonded.”

Diego looks sheepish. “You did?” 

“We realized it’s in the Hargreeves learned-DNA to make life-altering decisions for our siblings under the guise of protecting them.” Klaus says, fingers curling tighter around the bottom of the bouquet. “I think for now it would be best if we both carry on like I’m none the wiser.”

“Yeah?” Diego asks, clearly conflicted. 

“Allison’s pocket money has served me well so far.”

“Aren’t you mad?”

Klaus shrugs. “I’m over it.” 

Diego’s eyebrow twitches. “Already?”

“Well, I just did yoga-” 

“You should be mad!” Diego snaps. 

“Why are you mad?” Klaus yells back. 

“Because!” Diego seems to run out of steam, face softening. “You’re too fucking forgiving, that’s why.” 

“I’m a pacifist,” Klaus whines, indicating to the roses. “I don’t like fighting, remember?”

“Well, I’m not gonna forgive myself for being shitty to you so easily.” Diego says, in that stubborn, bull-headed way of his, like he isn’t ready to leave any time soon. It’s enough to make Klaus want to hold out. “Not until I make it up to you.” 

Diego is looking at him so earnestly that Klaus feels like his body is burning under the spotlight, uncomfortable at the attention but pathetically yearning for more all the same. Klaus moves to sit on his bed, setting the roses down on his bedside table. 

“How?”

“I don’t know.” Diego admits, retreating into himself for a moment and eyeing Klaus cautiously. “What do you want?”

Klaus thinks of Vanya, cut off from Five and left to her own thoughts, then Ben’s expectant face, filling up his mind’s eye like Mufasa appearing to him in the clouds. 

“We could talk?”

Diego makes a face like he just ate a sour candy. “Talk?” 

“Or you can jump out the window again.”

“Let’s talk.”

Klaus stays still as Diego joins him on the mattress, dipping under his weight so their shoulders knock together. Diego smells freshly showered and like he has too much of his usual deodorant on, the same one he’s been using since he was about sixteen, but Klaus thinks there’s something comforting about it. Diego and his complete resistance to change is comforting in general, in a way, it makes him dependable. Predictable. Totally inflexible. 

_”Stay with me tonight?”_

_Diego, looking like the floor had fallen from underneath him. “I have to g-go.”_

“So.” Diego’s voice, lacking its usual certainty, snaps Klaus back to the present. “How was yoga?”

Klaus rolls his stiff shoulders. “Ben’s better at it than me.” 

“Don’t compare yourself to others.” Diego says gruffly. “It’s about being zen and shit, right?”

“I have a weak core.” 

Diego smirks. “‘Course you do.”

Klaus elbows him in the side, barely getting a reaction. “Rude.”

“Does it help?” Diego asks his own hands, staring down at his lap. “With - y’know.”

“A little. Some quality brain training.” Klaus says. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but apparently I’m prone to distraction.”

“You?” Diego at it again with that sideways, tummy-flipping smirk. “You should keep it up. It’s probably good for you and Ben to have a nice routine going, just the two of you.”

“Is that Diego Code for meaning a routine that doesn’t involve Five?” 

“You got me.” Diego murmurs, gritting his teeth. “Did the little asshole get home safe?”

“Found him sleeping like a baby.” Klaus says, which is more or less true. He doesn’t need to mention that Five was cuddling his flask like a teddy bear or still had the remnants of dried blood under his nose. “A really angry murder baby.”

Diego makes an irritated sound. “He played me good yesterday, already submitting my name for his guardianship. How’d he know I’d agree to it?”

“You have a weak heart, apparently.” Klaus can’t help but crack a smile at the memory of the nonchalant, almost positive way Five had reported this fact to him. “Or he knew you wanted to keep tabs on me or whatever your reasoning was.”

Diego takes a deep breath. “Look, Klaus-” 

Klaus hates that tone of voice. That tone has never lead to anything good in his life. It’s usually followed up by being kicked out of somebody’s apartment, or office, or rehab.

“Probably for the best if we just forget about all of that stuff though, right, start a clean slate?” Klaus cuts in quickly, as airily as he can whilst preempting the worst. “Since we have to play happy families and all for Five?”

“I don’t want this whole pretend relationship deal to-” Diego looks up with so much emotion that Klaus is the one who has to look away this time. “I don’t want to fuck with your head, okay?”

“I know the difference between real and pretend, Diego.” Klaus says, a bitter taste in his mouth. “You don’t have to worry about giving your faggy little brother ‘hope’ or whatever by playing make-believe for Five.”

It comes out harsher than he meant it to be and Diego sucks his teeth like he’s been winded. Klaus scratches his thigh through his yoga pants, fixating on the lines his nails leave in the thin material. 

“Hey. Look at me.” 

Klaus doesn’t. He thinks he can probably scratch through the lycra and see his raised, red skin soon.

“Klaus.” Diego grabs his wrist and stops him, holding firm when he struggles, still not looking up. “You wanted to talk about this, right? You can’t pussy out of it if I don’t.”

_Don’t flounce out _, Ben’s stern, Mufasa-like voice echoes in his head so Klaus gives in, turning to face Diego.__

__Diego swallows. “I fucked up, okay?”_ _

__“Me too.”_ _

__“No.” Diego shifts on the bed to look at him more fully. “I mean I regret what I did.”_ _

__Klaus lets out a dry laugh. “What, leading me on?”_ _

__“Running away.”_ _

__Klaus frowns. Diego is still grasping his wrist tight, looking a little like he did that night, lips working silently like he’s trying to figure out what he wants to say. It’s enough to make Klaus hold his breath, scared to do anything, in fear of breaking it again._ _

__It turns out Klaus doesn’t have to worry about that, because Five does it for him, throwing the door open and striding in without knocking._ _

__“Oh good, I thought I heard you both.”_ _

__Diego holds onto Klaus as if to anchor them both in place, glaring at Five pointedly. “We’re kinda busy here, Five.”_ _

__“I know, that’s why I interrupted.” Five say, eyes flicking from Klaus, to Diego, to the bouquet of roses on the table, eyebrows lifting with thinly veiled judgement. “We’ve been summoned.”_ _

__Klaus’s heart flips. “By Child Services?”_ _

__“No, by The Commission.” Five rolls his eyes. “By Family Services actually, for your guardianship interview. Time to make you two seem like functioning adults.”_ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek, sorry for the delay - I've had very little time to work on this fic! I'm not 100% happy with this but if I waited til I was, it would never be posted. Please suspend your disbelief for the plausibility of this initial adoption interview, because much like Klaus and Five, I'm bullshitting my way through this. Hope you all enjoy!

“Just be yourselves.” Five says, handing Diego and Klaus a heavy binder each. “As the child, I don’t get to be in the room for your first adoption interview, but I figure it should go more or less like this.”

They’re still in Klaus’s bedroom, because Diego refuses to go anywhere else in the manor for fear of bumping into Luther or Allison (“I just don’t want this to be a _thing_ , Klaus, and those two will most definitely make it a _thing_ ”), which means they’re still sitting on the bed together, far too close for comfort. Five is cross-legged on a pillow across from them, an unimpressed look on his face like he caught them in the middle of something sordid. Klaus is just relieved to see that he seems to be sober for what might be the first time in weeks.

Five _did_ just use a door though, instead of just appearing at random and giving Klaus’s fragile heart another scare, which he knows is just about Five’s _favorite_ thing to do, so Klaus’s concerns for his health and wellbeing aren’t totally alievated yet.

“Hey, so. This is a script.” Klaus points out, flicking through the pages in the binder. He has a lot of lines, compared to Diego, who seems to be monosyllabic. “I thought you wanted me to be my authentic self?”

“Be yourselves, but say and do exactly what the script tells you to do without delineating from it by any means.” Five amends, sitting back and regarding them with the critical look of a Broadway theatre director. “I literally couldn’t be making this any easier for you.”

Diego glowers down at the binder in a way that’s startlingly reminiscent of whenever Reginald assigned them any reading. Diego has never had much use for books, unless he can use them as projectiles to aim at Luther’s head. “What, you don’t trust us or something?”

“ _Trust_ is a strong word.” Five says with a tight smile. “Are you asking me if I trust you two to pretend to be hopelessly in love for an hour in front of complete strangers?”

That shuts them up. They haven’t really discussed this part.

The truth is, Klaus isn’t all that confident in Five’s gambit that he and Diego can fool anyone into believing they’re an actual couple. Because as much as people tend to make assumptions about them when they’re out together, like there’s no way someone who looks like Diego and someone who looks like Klaus could ever be innocently hanging out (hell, Al thought Klaus was Diego’s _rent boy_ when he first saw them in the boiler room together, like they were living in 1800s London), Klaus is still pretty sure they don’t look like a pair of lovebirds.

More like loud, bickering birds who peck each others feathers out.

And that was when they were actually spending time together regularly. Now, Klaus isn’t even sure what they look like, because being around Diego at the moment doesn’t feel all that far from acting - he’s definitely doing his darndest to pretend like he’s _not_ freaking out from Diego’s sudden visit, and yellow roses, and stunted half-confessions.

“You said you did.” Klaus says lamely, because Diego is too busy choking on his own spit.

“I said you two pass for a couple.” Five corrects, as if there’s some obvious distinction that Klaus is missing. “It’s the part where you open your mouths that I worry about.”

Klaus thinks Five might have a point there, but Diego still hasn’t opened his script and is mean-mugging Five like he’d rather hit him with it, so Klaus stays silent when Diego asks. “And what makes you so sure your little romance novel is airtight, Five?”

“Because my plans always work, when people actually _stick_ to them.” Five gives the binder a pointed look. “So stick to the script, Diego.”

“Your plans always work?” Diego repeats, raising his eyebrows all sassy-like. Klaus wonders if he realizes how much he looks like a mean girl in a circa 2000s teen movie when he makes that expression. “Your plan not working is why we’re in this position in the first place, little boy.”

“No improv.” Five snaps. If he had a director scarf, Klaus is sure he would be throwing it over his neck and firing Diego on the spot. “It’s hardly your strong suit.”

“Ahem, _I_ am a fabulous improvisor.” Klaus says, more than a little put-out. He’s not about to defend Diego’s ability to think quickly on the spot, because as much as Klaus might be stupidly gone for him, he’s not _that_ gone. Smooth execution has never been Diego’s forte. Not that it’s ever been Klaus’s either, but he has some wit left in him, and very little shame. Couple that with the sheer, naked desperation of living on the streets and he knows he can turn a show. “What happened to me being your charming counterpart who’s able to talk his way out of any situation, Five?”

Five lips press into a thin line. “Last time you improvised, you smashed a snowglobe off of your head.”

“And I smashed the performance.” Klaus snits back. “Your welcome.”

Diego gives Klaus a slow look. “You did _what_?”

“You had to be there, Diego, I was great, so off-the-cuff-”

“You were high.” Five cuts in, impatient. “You’re sober now, Klaus, and you get distracted by any shiny new thing that catches your eye, just like you did on every single mission when we were kids, so forgive me if I think you need some reigning in when I’m not around.”

Ouch.

Yeah.

Klaus doesn’t have a response for that, and Diego doesn’t exactly leap to his defense either, so Klaus wants to move on from this as quickly as possible, before he does or says something else embarrassing.

“I’m helping you stay focused.” Five adds, voice a little softer than before, like Klaus still just doesn’t _understand_ that none of them think he’s capable of handling anything, ever.

“A _snowglobe_?”

Klaus returns to the script, because he can feel his throat doing that funny tight, sore thing it does when he’s about to get tearful, which definitely counts as embarrassing. His runs his finger down the page, then pauses. He flicks back through the previous page, then the one before, frowning.

“Uh, Five, you wrote that I’m crying for three straight pages?”

“You can cry on cue, can’t you?”

“I can’t cry on cue.”

Five gives him a skeptical look, like this is actually up for debate. “You cry all the time.”

“I do not cry _all_ the time.”

Diego gives Klaus a side-ways glance. “You kinda do.”

Klaus might be about to cry right now, but he can’t show them that, because it’s not true and he _isn’t_ about prove their point, so he scoffs instead.

“Those are genuine tears.”

“You told me you turned on the waterworks to get my boss to give you my door key.” Diego chimes in again, because both he and Five could share an award over who can’t stand being wrong the most (only they _wouldn’t_ share it, because they’d _kill_ each other before they’d share anything).

“And I was _genuinely_ distraught.” Klaus sulks, because he was. Which was clearly short-sighted of him, because Diego obviously thinks he’s some kind of manipulative hussy, which is only half-true.

“If you can cry over not seeing Diego for _one_ day, surely you can spare a few tears over not seeing me ever again once I’m in the foster system.” Five says snidely. “Besides, if you think you’re such a great actor, time to prove it.”

“Geez, always with the foster system.” Klaus grouses, wiping his eyes with the back of his knuckles, so his vision isn’t all watery before reads through the script again. “ _I was nothing but a selfish, washed-up drug addict with no purpose in life until I reconnected with Diego and he taught me what it means to put others before myself_ ”

Diego stiffens. “What?”

“I never thought I deserved a real chance at happiness, but Diego’s faith in me makes me believe I’m ready for the responsibilities of guardianship.” Klaus reads aloud, his stomach flipping. “After years of giving into my own weakness and addiction, he makes me feel like I finally have a purpose in my life.”

“A little bit melodramatic, I know.” Five shrugs. “But considering your past, I think it’s a sympathetic enough backstory”

“Jesus, Five.” Diego snatches Klaus’s script away from him like it’s a grenade about to explode. “How’d you come up with this bullshit?”

“What? It’s in-character.”

“ _Diego nods_?” Diego reads, incensed. “ _Diego says ‘Uh-huh_ ’?”

“Exactly.”

“I mean, the dialogue’s a little stiff.” Klaus hand-waves, scratching his thigh distractedly.

Diego isn’t letting this go easily, always a dog with a bone. “I know you think you’re above using tact, Five, but you crossed a line here. How’d you get it into your head that you, of all people, could write anything _romantic_?”

“Because I’m the only one of us who knows what it’s like to truly be in love.” Five spits.

Klaus’s stomach flips again. He blinks away images of a smoky Vietnamese bar, mud-streaked skin and sandy blonde hair, warm blood on his hands. Dave’s dog-tag suddenly feels like it’s searing into his skin, white-hot.

“With a fucking mannequin?” Diego asks, voice dangerously soft. “You think you know what it’s like to be in love better than us?”

Diego’s hand lands on Klaus’s knee, snapping him back to reality.

It takes him a moment to realize Diego isn’t talking about them, together, as a unit. He’s talking about them as individuals, bonding over a shared heartbreak, over losing people, over being the surviving halves of two partnerships that ended in death and guilt and grief.

It was part of the reason why they had gotten so close, so fast, after everything had went down, after all. Drawn together by a shared loneliness. They didn’t have anyone else to concentrate their energies into, it just made sense to attach themselves to the only other person who understood what it felt like to be ruined for any future relationships. Commiserating over their inability to move on and find someone new, their hearts locked in the past.

Only, that hadn’t turned out so well.

“Yeah.” Five has the eyes of a fifty-eight year old all of a sudden, full of an emotion Klaus can’t quite place. It occurs to him that Five might not just be talking about Delores. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

“You’re delusional, that’s what you are.” Diego speaks through bared teeth. “Apologize to Klaus.”

“It’s fine.” Klaus forces a laugh, because there’s no other way to react, and the words on the page suddenly don’t seem like such a personal attack. “I mean, I don’t _love_ how you wrote me to be a one-dimensional character who’s completely reliant on his man and has no agency of his own, Five, but I guess I can make it work.”

“No.” Diego shakes his head, angry on Klaus’s behalf and stabbing a finger on the script. “You shouldn’t have to say that crap about yourself, that’s messed up-.”

“It’s also not real, Diego.” Klaus says, pulling his binder out of Diego’s grip, with difficulty. Somehow, Diego defending him feels worse than when he was ganging up against him with Five. He crosses his leg over the other so Diego’s big hand falls off of his knee. “Five’s right, gotta tug on the ole’ heartstrings a little if we want anyone to buy us - well, mostly me - as a well-adjusted person.”

“Thank you” Five sighs, sounding more vindicated than grateful. “I’m glad someone can follow direction.”

Diego stares at Klaus for a split-second longer, then seems to give up on whatever he wants to say next, leaning forward to leer menacingly at Five instead.

“And what about you?”

Five’s entire spine arches with cat-like hostility. “What about me?”

“Why don’t you show us you can act like a normal kid?”

“Because _I’m_ not the problem here.” Five says contemptuously. “I’ve lived out dozens of secret identities, Diego, I think I know how to pretend to be a dumb kid.”

“Smile.”

“No.”

Diego’s lips twist, serial-killer like. “ _Humor_ me.”

Five smiles.

Five _smiles_. Not his usual, condescending smirk, but an actual smile.

It’s terrifying.

Klaus covers his mouth with one hand. “Make it stop.”

“What?” Five is still smiling but it somehow looks like a death threat. “I’m smiling a dumb little kid smile, that’s all I have to do.”

“You look like you’re going to come out of the television and kill me in seven days.”

Five looks Klaus dead in the eye. “Why would I need seven?”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Diego claps his hands together and points at Five. “You’re a freaky little dude, you’re not gonna end up in foster care, you’re gonna get your ass landed in a children’s psyche ward.”

“You’re hardly in a position to be worrying about me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a reason _Klaus_ is the one doing most of the talking.”

Klaus isn’t sure whether this counts as a compliment or not, since it sure sounds a lot like a heinous insult against Diego.

“Yeah, I’m _not_ reading anymore of this.” Diego tosses his own unopened binder on the floor and gives Five a defiant look.

Five’s eyes flash. “Why not?”

“Because I’m doing you a fucking favor, Five, that doesn’t make me your performing monkey, reciting all your weird little made-up sob stories.” Klaus can feel Diego’s long fingers flexing for his knives next to his thigh, which is dangerously close to feeling like he’s grazing Klaus’s thigh, and Klaus has to admit Five had a point about how distraction prone he is, because now all he can think about is Diego’s big hand squeezing his thigh like it’s the hilt of a knife. “I don’t need to rehearse shit.”

“Oh really?” Five puts his elbow on his knee and rests his chin in his hand, like a lion finally ready to pounce. “Whatever happened to ‘ _Kn-Kn-Knives are for sissies, real men throw_ -’”

“I’ll show you what real men throw-”

 _Shit_. An imaginary klaxon rings in Klaus’s head.

His hand is already on the back of Diego’s shit collar as he rises from the bed, which does nothing to stop anything, because Diego is an angry battering ram of a man and Klaus hasn’t even eaten today. Diego’s palm is on his chest in an instant, pressing him back down on the mattress and almost possessively keeping him in place.

Which is rude, and strangely infantilizing, but Klaus can’t focus on that, because Diego has a knife in his other hand and it’s pointed at Five, who hasn’t moved from the cushion.

“You can’t do it, can you?”

Five’s eyes are furious little slits. “Can’t do what?”

Diego twirls the knife between his fingers. “You can’t jump.”

And Klaus knows Diego is probably right, because Five is still just sitting there, staring Diego down. Knows because he’s suspected it for a while, that something is going on with Five and his powers, but he hoped it was more to do with Five sharing Klaus’s own Achilles heel: Not sober? No power. The series of messy landings when he jumped, the nosebleed from yesterday, had all happened whilst Five had been wasted.

But Five isn’t drunk, and he’s still not moving.

“Are you going to stab me to find out?” Five spits, an angry rush of color in his pallid cheeks. “Try your luck, Diego, see if you can finally get a hit on me.”

“I think you should watch how you talk to your new step-daddy.”

Klaus is glad that Diego and Five are too busy trying to kill each other with their eyes to notice how Klaus’s whole face has flushed at Diego hissing the words _step-daddy_.

“Do it.” Five bites out. “Number Two.”

“And _I_ think that’s just about enough toxic masculinity in my bedroom for one day.” Klaus is in between them, holding up the binder like a shield in front of Diego, like Diego can’t just curve the knife past him and skewer Five like a bottle cork. “I’m serious, it’s going to take all of my candles, crystals, my good sage, to exorcise this volatile _waft_ from my zen space.”

“He needs someone to take him down a peg.” Diego says, pointing the knife past Klaus and at Five, but Klaus can tell from the resigned set of his jaw that the real fight has gone out of him. “The little fucker’s bluffing, I know it.”

Klaus dares to place his fingertip on the straight edge of the knife and lower it down, giving Diego what he hopes is a commiserating look. “And we both know he’s petty enough to let you turn him into chopped sushi just to prove a point-”

“I am not petty-”

“- So I guess we’ll never find out if Five is going to squip himself -”

“Klaus, I warned you about the Harry Potter references-” Klaus gives Five a look, which he hopes translates to _‘I just saved your sorry little behind from getting flayed by Diego, so stop paying me dust already’_ , and it must do the trick, because Five relents and pinches his brow in exasperation. “I’m not going to squip myself, because that’s not how it works.”

“Squip?” Diego repeats, dropping his agitated stance and sounding like a caveman. “What is squip?”

Five stands, collecting Diego’s binder from the floor and tucking it back under his arm. It seems like a truce, until Five can’t help but be like. “You’ve _never_ read _Harry Potter_?”

“No, funnily enough I _skipped_ the one about the orphan boy with magical powers who went to a special academy and found joy and love and friendship there, because I don’t fuck with _make-believe_.”

“Fair.” Five acquiesces, at the same as Klaus mumbles, “But that’s what makes it good.”

Diego pockets his knife again, sighing and moving around to stand by Klaus’s side, standing above Five and poking a finger to his chest. “Look, when do we need to do this dumb interview tomorrow, right?”

“Right.” Five’s eyes stay on Diego’s finger but, miraculously, doesn’t fight back. “Twelve-thirty, so you have plenty of time to get home.”

“Fine.” Diego takes the binder back. “I’ll skim this. To get the gist of it, so we’re all on the same page.”

Klaus startles when he realizes Diego is looking at him. “Yeah. That all sounds fine and dandy.”

“But I’m not doing any theatrics, you’ll get what you get.” Diego turns back to Five, firmly, using his cop voice. “Just have a little faith in us, huh?”

“I do.” Five mutters, folding his arms and seeming very small. His dark eye bags suddenly look more pronounced than ever. “I just don’t like their inane rule that I can’t be in the room during your interview.”

“We know.” Klaus says, with a rush of affection now that the tension has drained from the room. “Our little control-freak.”

Five doesn’t deny it. “One more thing-”

“Careful.” Diego warns.

“Don’t wear leather.” Five finishes, looking up at them as if this is the largest task of all. “Either of you.”

Klaus turns to Diego conspiratorially. “I don’t know if we can do that.”

Diego shakes his head, hands on his hips. “I was planning on wearing _only_ leather.”

“And a domino mask.”

“Duh.”

Five lets out an angry _tsk_ but doesn’t rise to their bait, which Klaus feels oddly proud of him for. He’s pretty sure Five is going to be picking his outfit for him and vetting every aspect of his appearance come Tuesday anyway.

A loud, familiar, heavy knock on the door makes them all flinch, and Klaus is surprised Diego doesn’t canonball himself out of the window on reflex.

“Hey, are you guys hanging out?” Luther asks, peering around the doorframe hopefully.

“No.” Diego lies.

“I’m leaving.” Five announces.

Klaus pulls a face. “Not in a fun way?”

“Allison’s coming.” Ben signals, walking through the wall. He lowers his voice, gossip-like, as if anyone other than Klaus can hear him. “They’re still in a fight.”

“Jesus, Luther, get out of my way already.” Five makes a show of squeezing past the bulk of Luther’s body in the door frame without giving him a chance to move.

“He uses doors now?” Luther asks, staring after Five with a knot of confusion in his brow.

“Five, come back here-” Allison sounds ready to kill. Klaus can almost _see_ Five side-stepping her in the hallway and making a run for it. “Goddamnit.”

Luther practically jumps into the room to make way for Allison storming in, pressed against the wall as if to make himself smaller.

“What were two doing with Five?”

Diego gives Klaus a _‘Can you_ believe _this shit_ ’ look, like just the combined presence of Alison and Luther makes him want to _die_. “Just hanging out.”

“So.” Ben takes stock of the room, where Diego is still standing by Klaus’s side, looking ready to use his binder as a projectile to hit Luther in the head with. “Good talk?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“No.” Allison says, mistaking Klaus for responding to her. “Tell me now. I’m so tired of you all and your little secrets.”

 _Yeah, me too_.

All three of them turn to stare at Klaus. Ben cringes.

“You kinda said that out loud.”

“Uh, so who wants to go to Griddys?”

 

Klaus convinces a reluctant Diego to drive them all to Griddys to break the latest adoption update. Most of the journey passes in stony silence with Luther and Allison stewing in the back together, broken mainly by Klaus arguing with Diego over what music to put over the radio.

“I don’t _like_ pop music.” Diego snarks, like they hadn’t practically worn out the burnt CD of Marina’s _Electra Heart_ album whenever it was just the two of them in the car.

“ _The 1975_ aren’t pop.”

“What, you call that rock?” Diego sneers, like he’s suddenly the authority on rock music and wasn’t pretending like he had personally discovered _The 1975_ two months ago (Klaus had introduced him to them, just like he had introduced Diego to basically every good song he’s ever listened to since childhood).

“Geez, Diego, why do you feel the need to flex your dominance over _music_?” Klaus vents, reaching for the radio. Diego grabs his hand, crushing his fingers to stop him from changing the channel back. “This is big talk from the man who still listens to _Coldplay_ -”

“That was _one_ time and everybody knows that _The Scientist_ still slaps, so don’t act like you’re so _above_ it just because it was popular, you little fuckin’ _goth_ -”

“Diego, can you keep your hands off of Klaus and on the steering wheel, please?” Allison snaps, making Luther flinch.

Diego relaxes his grip but didn’t let go, so it’s basically like they’re holding hands. “Hey, Allison, I heard a _rumour_ you stopped being a backseat driver-“”

“Just pick a fucking song then, you absolute children-”

“Yeah, Diego, we all want to listen to _Fix You_.”

Diego throws his hand away in disgust like Klaus is the one who’s been holding onto him. “I can’t believe I almost forgot how annoying you were.”

“I love pop music.” Luther volunteers. “Anything is good. I like all genres.”

“This must be what David Attenborough feels like.” Ben grumbles, leaning forward from the middle seat. “Make me corporeal, Klaus, I literally cannot _take_ anymore of you and Diego’s weak music.”

They ended up settling on Childish Gambino’s _Sweatpants_ just so Ben can rap the whole thing to everyone, which ends up cracking a smile on Allison’s face when he spits _“I don’t give a fuck about my family name_.”, so it’s worth it.

 

Klaus and Luther sit opposite Diego and Allison in the booth and the four of them looking like they’re on the worst double date ever.

Ben is with them too, but Klaus lost confidence in his ability to make him corporeal in public after _last_ time, when he had summoned him to hold his and Allison’s shopping bags for them whilst they shared a cigarette, and an old woman had almost fallen into oncoming traffic in shock when Klaus lost his concentration and Ben had fully disappeared into thin air, the bags still levitating.

“I’m leaving in an hour.” Diego tells their siblings after they’ve filled them in, as if anyone was looking to doubt his reputation as an anti-social hermit crab. “I have shit to do today and I’m under house arrest.”

Luther looks predictably sanctimonious. “What did you do now?”

“Killed a man.”

Luther’s jaw drops.

“I’m kidding. _Obviously_.” Diego says, without a trace of humor in his voice. “It’s none of your business what I did, Luther, so keep your opinions to yourself and eat your damn donut.”

Luther closes his mouth, shooting Allison a furtive look. She ignores him, keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead as she sips her iced coffee. She’s wearing sunglasses and a headwrap, her usual disguise now that she’s abstaining from using her powers and can’t rumor the general public into not recognising her anymore, still looking effortlessly glamorous and ready to grace the cover of a magazine at a moment’s notice. Klaus thinks she could look anything less than regal if she tried.

“I’ll make sure Diego gets home before his car turns into a pumpkin.” Klaus says, smirking at a sour-looking Diego from across the table. “Seeing as I’m basically a fairy godmother and all.”

“So you two are in a relationship?” Allison cuts to the chase, lowering her shades.

“Pretend relationship.” Diego and Klaus say at the same time, breaking gazes.

“Nobody will believe that.” Luther says around a mouthful of donut.

“Everyone will be believe that.” Diego hisses, competitively.

“I’m not rumoring anyone.” Allison says, sizing them up. “So if that’s plan B, when this backfires, you can count it out right now.”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Klaus breaks in, hand on his heart and acting faux-wounded, like she hasn’t hit the nail on the head. “We aren’t planning on fluffing out debut as the hottest new gay power couple of 2019, so there’s no reason for you two to worry your overbearing little heads about it.”

“But I want to be involved.” Luther says, all-self pity.

“Yeah, we know.” Diego rolls his eyes. “But we don’t need Team Tyrant to come to our rescue for everything little thing, alright? So lay off.”

Klaus mixes his bowl of ice cream together, hiding a smile and trying not to show how much he’s enjoying playing doubles with Diego in a verbal tennis match against Allison and Luther again.

Allison still looks unconvinced, but doesn’t push it, her eyes lingering on Klaus as he scoops strawberry ice cream into his mouth. He doesn’t really like strawberry ice cream, but Ben does, and even though he can’t taste it, he insists there’s something comforting about the fact Klaus is eating it for him.

“I went to see Vanya this morning.” She begins, innocently, and Klaus almost drops his spoon. “She said you stopped by to see her last night, Klaus.”

“Mm.” Klaus makes an emphatic noise, taking a long time to swallow. “Oh yeah. I did. I thought it was time for her and me to have a little heart to heart.”

“Talk about anything in particular?” Allison asks, casual-like, stirring her coffee with the straw.

Klaus pretends to think. “No, not really”

“Huh.” Allison nods, looking like she wants to rumor his head into exploding. “So why’d you go over there? You’re never really in that area, seems a little urgent to me.”

He’s definitely going to regret this later. “See, that’s the thing about a _heart to hearts_ , Allison; it’s kind of a private conversation between two people, who want to keep it that way, for a reason.”

Diego snorts, almost aggressively loud. Klaus is pretty sure he can _feel_ Luther’s butt cheeks clenching next to him on their shared bench cushion. Allison hasn’t blinked throughout this whole conversation and her eyes look like they could start bleeding at a moment’s notice.

Ben lets out a low whistle. “She’s not holding up well without using her rumors, huh?”

“What’s going on with Vanya and Five?” Allison bursts out, physically shaking.

“Allison.” Diego faces her, mock-disappointed. “That’s what we call an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m just worried about her.” Allison says, removing her sunglasses completely so Klaus can get a full view of the conflicted expression on her face, like a true actress. “She was doing really well for a while, but ever since this whole adoption stuff came up, she’s been hiding herself away again.”

Klaus thinks of Vanya’s beseeching eyes, suggesting that they can grow and heal as a family if they can just learn how to talk about their feelings of everyday betrayal with one other.

“Hey, so, remember our whole thing where we promised not to smother each other-”

“You must know something.” Allison cuts over him. “This is red flag behaviour, Klaus, so either you’re too busy running around with Five and Diego to care about Vanya’s well-being, or you know what’s really happening with her.”

“He said he doesn’t know, okay?” Diego butts in before Klaus has a chance to defend himself. Klaus blinks at him in surprise and Diego glances away, swigging his glass of water. “Vanya obviously didn’t want to tell you either, sis, so take a hint.”

Allison’s fingers subconsciously reach to touch the whitened scars on her throat, looking so upset that it’s almost enough to make Klaus feel guilty and beholden to confess everything to her, like he always does, which might be his own weak conscience talking or the Pavlovian results of a childhood of petty rumoring,

Then he remembers his inheritance and suddenly doesn’t feel quite so bad.

“Five and Vanya are pretty private people, Allison, you really think they’d trust _me_ with their deepest, darkest secrets?”

It’s not like he wants to keep secrets from her. Klaus doesn’t like lying, as a rule of thumb. It’s too much pressure, first of all, and it’s always just a matter of time until he slips up and spills it. But it’s not like he really _knows_ anything. Nothing for certain, anyway. It would be a lie to pretend like he did. All he has are suspicions, and suspicions are pretty much gossip, and gossiping is something he thinks this family could benefit from ceasing from for the rest of their lives.

Unless it’s him and Ben gossiping about Diego, because that’s basically like his own private train of thought, right?

“Vanya’s giving me violin lessons.” Klaus says, finally. “I needed a new hobby and she wants to teach again.”

Allison looks desperate to believe him. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” Klaus smiles at her and decides to blame the ice cream for why he suddenly doesn’t feel so well. “We’re going to make sweet, sweet music together.”

“Ugh.” Diego wrinkles his nose at him like a puritan.

“That sounds nice.” Luther says morosely, pushing crumbs around his plate.

If Allison wants to grill him any further, she’s interrupted by the waitress placing their check on the table. Klaus squirms uncomfortably like he always does when the other three pull out their debit cards to split the bill. Allison always pays for him.

“Diego, what are you doing?” Allison is holding her own card out like its a duel. “All you got was water, you don’t owe anything.”

“I’ve got Klaus.” Diego shrugs, placing his card flat on the table and scowling at Allison like he’s daring her to challenge him on it.

“Hear that, Klaus?” Ben is wearing a shit-eating grin. “He’s _got_ you.”

Klaus’s heart flutters, which is critically stupid of him, because he’s pretty certain Diego is only overcompensating like this because he’s still feeling guilty over ‘messing with Klaus’s head’ or whatever other noble excuse Diego has invented for why he avoided Klaus like he had fleas for two weeks. The pandering actually makes him feel worse, because it’s a reminder that he’s been little brother-zoned, like Diego thinks he has some obligation to be nice to him. Luckily, Klaus knows a surefire way to make Diego disgusted with him again.

He reaches over and pats Diego’s hand, giving him his best salacious wink. “Thanks, hubby.”

Diego _blushes_.

Oh.

Oh, no.

This is not good.

“He’s got you.” Ben repeats, a little dumbstruck. “He’s got you _bad_ ”.

 

Diego drops them off at the academy again, and Allison immediately gets out of the car as soon as Diego pulls up, slamming the door. Luther hesitates for a second before noticing Diego glaring at him in the rearview mirror, taking the hint to leave too.

“Hey, Miss Daisy.” Ben wags a finger at him as he drifts away, like a sage old mentor giving him one last piece of advice. “Don’t put out.”

Then it’s just the two of them and the silence is excruciating. Klaus thinks of approximately thirty irreverent things to say, but nothing makes it out of his lips.

“So-” Diego begins eventually, eyes on the windshield. Klaus stares back at their near-transparent reflections. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” Klaus taps a beat on his knee. “Unless you get cold feet.”

“And leave you looking like some jilted bride with mascara all over your face?” Diego ducks his head and does that stupidly appealing thing where he runs his tongue over his lips, a hint of a smirk growing. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s tempting-”

“But we gotta stay together for the kid.” Klaus sighs, and Diego turns that smirk on him, having no right to look this good while Klaus is still trying to resent him. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

“Looks like it.” Diego mutters, too softly to have any real bite. “What you gonna wear?”

“A lady never tells.”

Klaus wants to slap himself, because he knows he’s doing it again. It’s always been so easy to fall into this flirty, false sense of security with Diego, because he never thought anything was ever going to happen. Now, it feels a little loaded.

Diego gives him a pointed look. “I still want you looking respectable, okay?”

“Worried I’ll out-shine you?”

“Nah, I just don’t want the interviewer to think I settled _too_ much.” Diego pats his abs. Asshole. “Might make the whole couple thing seem too unrealistic, you know?”

“Please, have you noticed how clear my skin is lately?” Klaus dares to lightly dust his knuckles against Diego’s bicep. “You’re the one punching.”

Diego’s eyes linger on Klaus’s balled-up hand, dropping into his lap, then flick up to his face. “Your skin is looking good.”

And that’s.

Kind of creepy, honestly, but.

Also kinda sweet?

Klaus hesitates, because this is normally the moment for someone to interrupt them, ready for Five to snap the tension by appearing in the passenger’s seat and ridiculing them for something or other.

But nobody appears, and Diego is still staring at him, a crease forming in his brow.

“Hey, so. Whatever you were going to say to me in my room-” Klaus starts, heart thudding. He wonders if he’s imagining Diego leaning in a little. “Let’s put a pin in that until after this adoption stuff is over, hm?”

Diego blinks, in disbelief. “Are you - sure?”

 _No_.

“Yes.” Klaus nods. “Completely.”

“But-”

“Please?”

“Okay.” Diego looks like this is not okay at all, sighing in a distinctly passive-aggressive fashion and sitting back in his seat. “Consider it pinned.”

Klaus undoes his seatbelt before he can change his mind, hand on the door handle. _Coward_ , _coward_ , _coward_.

The door sticks.

“Child-lock, seriously?”

Diego looks unapologetic. “If the shoe fits.” He flicks the safety off and Klaus almost topples out of the car. “Don’t be late tomorrow or I will jilt your ass.”

 

Allison is blasting angry music from her bedroom and Klaus is stuck hovering outside of Luther’s bedroom door again, blocked by Ben, the President of the Luther Protection Squad.

Klaus protests. “But I already spent time with him this week.”

“Come on, Klaus, he’s lonely.”

Klaus thinks he has a lot to think about tonight, like how he still hasn’t had the guts to confront Five about what’s going on with him despite promising himself that he would, or how reading the script again is probably going to send him into an existential depression, or why Diego footed his bill and bought him yellow roses and looks so fuckable in dark jeans.

So right now is probably the best time to hang out with Luther, the only person in the house who’s a bigger mess than he is.

“I never seem to say the right thing.” Luther mopes, delicately applying more paint to his model airplane. It’s small enough already, but in his huge hands, the plane looks comically miniature, like Luther could crush it between his thumb and forefinger.

Klaus is painting his own model plane bright pink. “You’ve been in the doghouse since the last family dinner?”

“I’ve tried to apologize, but Allison doesn’t want to hear it. Maybe you could talk to her for me?” Luther asks, giving him those kicked puppy eyes. “You’re good at talking to people.”

Klaus kind of wants to never talk to any of them again. “I dunno, big guy, I don’t think I’m her favorite person right now either.”

“But you make her laugh.” Luther mumbles. “Sometimes I wish I was funny like you.”

“Luther, you _never_ laugh at _anything_ I say.”

“It’s not that I don’t like your sense of humor, Klaus, it’s just that. Most of the time, I. I.” Luther’s voice turns very small. “I just don’t _get_ it.”

“Lucky you, I wish I didn’t get it.” Ben says, sounding genuinely wistful. He’s holding a tiny fighter pilot figure and mixing two little pots of paints together to try to get one to match his skin tone. “He talks in recycled pop culture references, it gets old.”

“Oh, like you don’t, Casper.”

“Maybe we could watch some of your shows together?” Luther suggests, melting Klaus’s heart a little with how hard he’s trying. “I know you’re busy with Five and Diego, but I don’t know how long it’ll take for Allison to forgive me this time, so my schedule is pretty open.”

Ben makes a soft, fond noise unlike any Klaus has ever heard him make before.

“Sure.” He smiles placatingly, wondering if _The Golden Girls_ is too racy to start Luther off with. “But is Allison seriously still pissed at you for volunteering her to adopt Five?”

“No, I made it worse, after that.” Luther sets his plane down to dry. “I did something really bad, you guys.”

Klaus and Ben exchange dubious looks.

“How bad?” Klaus ventures tentatively.

“I asked her to rumor me.”

Klaus balks. “Not that I’m victim-blaming here, Luther, but you _asked_ for it?”

“Why?” Ben looks thrilled.

“We don’t touch each other.” Luther blurts out in a rush, ducking his head and closing his eyes. “We tried, once, but - yeah.”

“Oh.” Klaus, not for the first time, wonders how he keeps falling into the role of being Luther’s sex therapist. “That’s a- a bummer, buddy.”

“I don’t know what to do with my hands.” Luther looks down at his huge, gloved hands miserably. “I know I did _It_ once, but I was wasted, I don’t even remember - I just wanted Allison to rumor me into having the confidence to touch her, the way she wants me to, without me - hurting her.”

And if that isn’t just about the most vulnerable confession Klaus has ever heard.

“Hey. Hey now, Luther, don’t be embarrassed.” Klaus abandons his plane and shifts on his knees to rub Luther’s bulging arm, somewhat awkwardly. He’s never been that great at comforting Luther, but the revelation that Luther has spent almost thirty years having no idea what Klaus is talking about has made him feel a little better about that. He sneaks a look at Ben for guidance but Ben shrugs, out of his element for once. “Is there anything I can do - ?”

Luther looks up at him with whip-like speed. “You’ve been with women right?”

Klaus blinks, covering his throat instinctively. “Uh, it’s been a while, but yeah.”

“What do I do?”

“Don’t panic and kiss him.”

“Shut _up_ , Ben.”

Klaus hadn’t planned to spend the evening before the interview painting Luther an elaborate diagram of vulvar anatomy and relaying the last time he went down on a woman in vivid detail, but it does pass the time pretty quickly, and Luther is so grateful to him afterwards that he even gives Klaus’s little pink airplane pride of place on his desk.

“Think he’s noticed you wrote _Aer CunniLingus_ on the side of it?” Ben whispers, as Luther carefully places Ben’s mini fighter pilot into the cockpit.

Luther smiles at Klaus in a way that tells him that even if he has noticed, the reference is lost on him. “Do you mind if I keep it?”

“Oh. Um. Sure.” Klaus says, caught off-guard. He salutes him. “Captain.”

Luther salutes back, beaming.

It’s about the most helpful Klaus has felt in weeks.

 

Klaus jacks off once before he gets in the bath and then once again whilst he’s toweling himself dry, running his hand under the tap in the sink and promising himself its not Allison and Luther’s awkward, boring sex life that’s awoken his stagnant libido.

He also doesn’t want to think about who the real culprit is, though, because that would mean giving Diego the credit of getting him this hot and bothered _twice_ in the span of an hour, like he’s thirteen again and discovering his dick for the first time.

This is bad. Very bad.

Even though the numbing effects of the drugs have long worn off, he’s usually too exhausted to feel all that horny, whether its from conjuring Ben or from the fact he only gets about three hours sleep a night. Jerking off usually just feels like such a hassle, and until now, he hadn’t realized what a blessing that was, because he can tell tonight is going to be one of those nights where he feels _everything_.

Which means no sleep, which means no distraction from the impending doom that is tomorrow.

Ben is still hovering and reading a comic book when Klaus gets into bed. He does this most nights, hangs out until Klaus is sleep, and presumably after, because he’s always there whenever he wakes up from a nightmare, a calm voice in his ear telling him he’s okay.

“You’ll be okay.” Ben says, not looking up from his comic book, like he can read Klaus’s mind. “You’re the best bullshitter I know.”

Klaus tears his eyes away from the yellow roses, now sitting in a vase on his bedside table. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“If you really screw it up, I’ll be there to do damage control.”

“Thank you.” Klaus sighs, meaning it. His head hurts. “Do you think Allison’s okay?”

“Aside from being sexually frustrated?”

“We’re all sexually frustrated.”

“No, really?” Ben asks flatly, all sarcasm. “She’s just acting out because she can’t use her powers for the first time ever and now she feels like she’s lost control of her life and everyone in it.”

“Oh.” Klaus considers this. “That’s a vibe.”

“Yep.”

A few quiet seconds tick by before Klaus starts feeling anxious and in need of Ben’s attention again.

“Hey, Ben.” Klaus gives him a soulful look. “If you were still alive, do you think you’d be trying to fuck one of us too?”

“God, no.” Ben actually pretends to retch. “Unlike the rest of you animals, I actually have standards.”

“You wound me.”

“Go to _sleep_.”

“Hypothetical question.” Ben groans. “If I make you corporeal, do you think you could put me in a sleeper hold, or would you disappear before I blacked out?”

Ben throws his comic book down. “Let’s find out.”

“I said _hypothetical_ -”

 

 

Five arrives in his room exactly on time, wearing a red hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that Klaus has never seen before.

“Who are you and what have you done with Five?”

Five ignores him, which is ostensibly a very Gen Z thing to do, giving Klaus a once-over. “You look satisfactory.”

“Danke.” Klaus preens. He knows he does. He’s wearing a long black shift dress that hits his knees, with leggings and docs, which he thinks is pretty respectable. He threw on a long, chunky necklace with an aventurine stone in the middle for good luck, both because it looks fancy and because he thinks they probably need it.

“Diego’s downstairs.”

“Almost ready.” Klaus hums, checking himself out in the mirror one last time. Ben had begged him to go easy on the eyeliner and he isn’t used to the lack of dark, smudged rings under his eyes. His hair is sitting nicely for once too, freshly washed and curling at the tips. He looks _alert_ , and present, and maybe even approachable, like somebody Mothers wouldn’t shield their kids from him in the streets. It’s more than a little startling.

“Oh, of course, I have all the time in the world just to wait for you to fix your hair, Klaus.” Five’s acidic tone bursts his bubble. “Do you need another ten minutes of beauty sleep, too? I’m sure the Case Worker is going to be dying to know all about your hair care routine-”

Klaus twirls, just to piss Five off. “Coming, _mon petit_.”

“Don’t call me that-”

Klaus meets him in the doorway and leans down to steal a quick sniff, straightening up before Five’s small but lethal hand can connect to his head.

Five’s eyebrow twitches. “What was that?”

“Just checking my favorite orphan is sober.” Klaus says, ruffling Five’s hair out of its perfectly combed state. He allows it, looking like a disgruntled cat. “Proud of you.”

“Believe me-” Five grabs him by the wrist and _tugs_. “You make it very difficult.”

“Damn, Diego cleans up well.” Klaus says, hanging back by the banister when they spot Diego standing at the bottom of the staircase. Five makes an annoyed sound in his throat. “What? A guy can’t thirst after his fake boyfriend who also happens to be his brother?”

“He looks nervous.” Five criticizes. If Klaus didn’t know any better, he’d think Five looked a little nervous himself. “He better stick to the script.”

Diego must hear them bickering because he looks up, then does a double take, which Klaus’s ego is gratified by.

“Get going.” Five pushes Klaus forward roughly by the small of his back. “You’re meant to be a couple, not on a first date.”

Klaus walks down the staircase slowly, carrying himself like he’s Rose in _Titanic_. The fantasy is only slightly ruined by Five stomping down beside him like a haughty schoolboy.

“Hurry _up_ , Klaus.”

“You look ridiculous.” Diego tells Five, avoiding Klaus’s eyes. “I wish I had a camera.”

Five doesn’t dignify him with a response, continuing to stomp past him and straight through the front door.

“He’s really Daniel Day Lewis-ing this little kid schtick, huh?” Klaus says, which is decent enough material to almost get Diego’s attention.

“Your hair looks nice.” Diego tells the wall above Klaus’s head.

“Thanks, I’m letting it grow out.” Klaus says, fluffing it. “You shaved for this?”

Diego strokes his own smooth chin a little self-consciously. Klaus would kill to lick his tongue over the light speckle of stubble along his jaw. “Yeah, ‘cause I care about the image I present to the world.”

“Uh, excuse you, I care, I just can’t help that you’re all intimidated by my fashion sense-”

Diego freezes Klaus’s brain with that smirk, slow and lop-sided, as he looks Klaus up and down. “Never thought I’d see the day you looked presentable.”

God really must hate him, because she is _testing_ Klaus today.

He thankfully recovers quick enough to cross his arms and flick his eyes over Diego too. “I never thought I’d see the day you wore flannel, Diego, very DILF-Chic-”

“Not another word about the flannel.” Diego leans in, menacingly close. Klaus holds his breath. “It was on sale.”

“Get moving or I’m transporting your car straight to the _dump_ , Diego.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see you try.” Diego mutters, but not loud enough for Five to hear, holding his car keys like they’re a substitute for a knife that he wants to project through Five’s head. “And don’t even _think_ about getting in the front, pipsqueak. Klaus already called shotgun.”

Klaus did not call shotgun. Diego winks, which is more of a blink, because Diego can’t wink properly, and it’s as stupidly endearing as it always is.

“Don’t say I’m not good to you.”

 _God, you why must you test me so_?

“What?”

Oh, Klaus said that out-loud again.

“Nothing, I was just - praying.”

 

Klaus doesn’t bother fucking with the radio on the drive today, because Diego looks a little peaky like he does whenever he’s around a needle, and Klaus thinks it would be a distressingly bad vibe if Diego passed out and crashed them all into the back of a semi-trailer truck.

“Remember to call me Jimmy.” Five says from the back.

Klaus frowns at Five’s reflection in the rear-view mirror. “Why would we do that?”

Five rolls his eyes like Klaus can’t _see_ him. “That’s my new name.”

“Why did you pick Jimmy?”

“You don’t think I look like a Jimmy?”

Klaus twists around in the passenger seat to _really_ get into this. “That’s an old man name.”

“It’s a kid’s name.”

“Yeah, from the 1940s.”

“Quit it, both of you, before I have to _make_ you.” Diego snaps, sounding ready to turn this car back around. Then, he seems to calm down a little, because his lips tremble and he softly, fondly snorts. “ _Jimmy_.”

“All of our names are made up anyway.” Five mutters, glaring out of the window.

“That’s true, Dad probably has a birth certificate sitting around somewhere with _Number Four Hargreeves_ on it.” Klaus sighs, rearranging himself back into the passenger’s seat. A side-effect of Five’s return was the reminder that all of their Grace-given names were essentially nicknames, recognized legally but never in the eyes of Reginald.

“All names are made up.” Diego says, stubbornly, which signals the end of this conversation.

Time to change the subject.

“So what happens, Five, do we leave you in the corner with a coloring book whilst we have our interview?”

“I get interviewed first, testifying that I want to live with you both, then you two get to make your case for how you can actually take care of me.” Five says, back to business. “If you don’t screw it up too badly, then the next step is a home inspection.”

Klaus remembers this plotpoint from the script. “Yeah, see, about that-”

“We’re not doing it at my place.”

“Oh no, Diego, I was really counting on you letting the Case Workers visit your boiler room with a single bed in it-”

“What’s the matter, Five, you cranky without your morning glass of OJ and vodka?”

“So what, are we going to lock Mom and Pogo in a closet?” Klaus asks loudly, kicking his feet up on the dashboard and trying not to blame Diego for forgetting who _else_ in the car used to think that was an ideal breakfast. “The academy doesn’t exactly look child-friendly, Five, it still looks like a military base for child soldiers-”

“Klaus, I swear to God, you have five seconds to get your _bare fucking feet_ off of my dashboard before I _cut them off_ -”

“We’re buying a new apartment.”

Diego halts the car abruptly at a red light and Klaus yelps, dropping his feet back down. The angry vein in Diego’s neck has returned.

“Who’s _we_?”

“That’s not relevant right now.” Five remains unbothered. “Take this left turn, Diego, we’re here.”

 

Klaus sits beside Diego in a small waiting area, feeling a little bit like a kid again, waiting outside Reginald’s office to be lectured or punished. The walls are covered in pictures of happy families, smiling brightly and hugging.

It’s extremely unrelatable.

Klaus can tell it’s making Diego on edge too, because he’s staring at a poster of a white man piggybacking his adopted Asian son like he’s ready to use it as target practice.

“Hey, you know how you have issues with authority?”

“I do not.”

“You’re literally under house arrest.” Diego glowers. “Just try to chill out and play nice with these people, okay?”

“I’m always chill.” Diego scowls, which just about the least chill thing he could have said. “Is it the yoga?”

“What?”

“How are _you_ so calm?” Diego sounds legitimately thrown.

“Oh.” Klaus hasn’t really thought about it. The opinions of strangers has never really bothered him, getting his family’s approval has always been his white whale. “I don’t know. Ce sera sera, I guess.”

“No.” Diego says, bull-headed as ever. “We’re about to be judged. How do you not feel antsy about that?”

“Diego, walk a day in my shoes and you’d be immune to the judgement of others too.”

Diego looks at him for long enough that Klaus’s whole body starts to itch.

“What?”

“Sometimes you say things and it’s just so-” Diego closes his eyes. “Never mind. You’re right. Ce se-fucking-ra.”

Klaus knows Diego’s just nervous, and he gets angry when he’s nervous, and when Diego gets angry, he has a way of making sure everyone knows about it. Klaus mainly just doesn’t have the energy to deal with it.

“Hand.” Klaus decides.

“Are you serious?”

Klaus waves his _**hello**_ -palm in Diego’s face.

“As serious as Dad’s heart attack”

Diego gives a resigned sigh and lines his palm against his, lacing their fingers together firmly. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”

“Bet you say that to all the girls.” Klaus flutters his eyelashes at him. Diego’s head lolls back to glare at the ceiling but he doesn’t pull away. Their hands sit resting over both of their thighs.

It’s.  
Kind of nice, actually.

Ben appears through the wall of the room Five is being interviewed in, doing a half-hearted _Beetlejuice_ impression, complete with jazz hands.

“Showtime”.

 

They’re shown into the office of an older, kind-faced woman with huge glasses and arms covered in bangles. Diego is still holding Klaus’s hand for dear life.

“Good news.” Ben reports to Klaus, hands on her desk and reading her notepad. “She’s chatty and like, _really_ into all of your astrology mumbo-jumbo.”

“Mr. Hargreeves.” Bangles smiles. “And Mr. Hargreeves. Delightful to meet you both, my name is Kelly and I’ve been appointed as Jimmy’s case worker for his adoption process. Please take a seat.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Klaus shakes her hand, to a chorus of clinking jewelry. “Pardon me, but are those moonstones on your bracelet?”

“Why yes they are.” She says delightedly. “They’re one of my birth stones.”

“Gemini.” Ben says, dropping her driver’s license back into her purse.

Klaus squints. “Gemini?”

Bangles raises her eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Don’t hold it against me.”

“Air sign sisters! We’re Libras.” Klaus indicates between himself and Diego, who stares back at him blankly. Klaus gives her bracelet one last yearning look. “Stunning, I would _die_ for that bracelet.”

“Is that aventurine?” Bangles points at his necklace, then gasps when he nods. “Good luck charm?”

Klaus slides into the seat opposite her desk, giving her his best winning smile. “Let’s hope so.”

Diego looks like he’s just been hurtled through a wind tunnel. “Good to, uh, meet you, M’am”

Klaus yanks Diego down into the seat next to him.

“Thank you for seeing us so soon.”

“Oh, I was going to say I’m sorry for the delay.” Bangles says, sitting down and picking up her notepad. Ben perches himself on the edge of her desk. “We processed your paperwork weeks ago.”

Five is _nefarious_. “Has it been that long? The time has just flown by.”

Bangles smile drops a little, growing more serious as she clears her throat. “It’s very admirable, what you two are doing. In any adoption cases, we try to place the child with their closest family member, and in Jimmy’s case, you two are his nearest surviving kin. We tried to find biological relatives, but the only ones we could track down have all passed.”

Klaus shakes his head. “A tragedy.”

“Isn’t it?” Bangles looks like she could shed a tear herself. “Jimmy’s such a sweet boy.”

“He is?” Klaus kicks Diego under the table. “He is.”

“Our little-” Klaus bites his lip. “Angel.”

“He certainly spoke very highly of the two of you.”

“Oh really?” Klaus can’t help but lean forward “Saying what?”

“That’s not important-”

“Well, he said you were his favorite, Klaus – may I call you Klaus?” Klaus waves his hand, preening. “He said you always spend time with him, take him out to play or go wherever he wants to, make sure he has everything he needs provided for him. I think he even used the word ‘indulgent’. He’s very bright, for his age.”

“Yeah, Klaus sure is indulgent.” Diego says wryly, then seems to catch himself. “I think of myself as more of the, uh, authority figure.”

“Well, he said you were a bit of a pushover.” Klaus snorts. “But that you’ve been a real big brother to him.”

“Huh.” Diego sits up a little straighter, looking proud of himself. “I like that.”

“He really was keen to stay under your care.” Bangles says fondly. “It was the most darling thing, he laid out this five-point plan for all the self-improvements you two are going to make to be great guardians to him.”

“Oh, he did, huh?”

“ _So_ darling.”

“It was a lot.” Ben says witheringly. “I think Five only got away with it because he has that _Young Sheldon_ thing going on.”

“And we’d love to raise the little rascal, Jimmy has really-” This is the part where Five had scripted in some crocodile tears, but Klaus thinks he’s navigating the interview well enough to not risk looking like an unstable puddle of a person just yet. “He’s changed our lives.”

Diego’s grunts his assent.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Bangles adjusts her glasses shrewdly. “And as legal guardians, I should inform you that you would be entitled to receive some financial aid-”

“We don’t need your money.” Diego says, gruffly. Klaus digs his nails into his hand. “I mean, we’re already loaded, you know? I can show you my bank statement. We just want to give the kid a good life. He deserves it.”

Huh.

Not bad.

Klaus smiles and Diego grins back, almost cockily, like he’s just crowned himself the master of improv. He throws his arm over the back of Klaus’s chair, which is a little like he’s throwing his arm over Klaus. The scratchy material of his flannel shirt tickles the back of his neck.

Bangles clears her throat again.

“I have to admit, your relationship might strike a lot of people as being a little unconventional.” She looks between them, more curious than judgemental. “You two being raised as brothers and all.”

“Brothers is a _very_ loose term.” Klaus says with a light laugh, hoping he’s putting her at ease and not coming across like a depraved incestuous brother-fucker. He fixes Diego with a sweet smile. “How old were we when we had our first kiss? You must remember it - that night you snuck into my room, after Dad went to bed? Gosh, you were so nervous I thought you were going to puke all over me.”

“Fifteen?” Diego asks, voice strained.

“Oh, no, we were definitely younger.” Klaus says admonishingly, starting to enjoy himself. “By fifteen we had already graduated to-”

“So you were romantically involved since young adulthood.” Bangles nods, scribbling in her pad. “But you said in your application that you’ve only been dating for around four months. Would you describe your relationship as on-again, off-again?”

“Well, let me tell you, Kelly, that’s the trouble when you’re so – passionately in love with someone, but you can’t fight your own demons.” Klaus says, leaning back on Diego’s arm and keeping his eyes on him. “My fault, really, if only I could’ve just kicked the habit sooner-”

“What have I told you about talking down about yourself?” Diego murmurs, leaning his free hand over to squeeze his thigh. “I was focused on other things too, I was a bit of hothead, got myself kicked out of the police academy. Spent a lot of time being angry, you know? Being with Klaus and Fi - _Jimmy_ \- has given me time to cool my jets a little. See what’s really important in life, you could say.”

Klaus’s eyes flick down. Diego is still holding onto his leg, fingers trembling. Klaus covers his hand with his again.

“This guy, huh? Don’t you want to just eat him up?” Klaus says to Bangles, laughing shakily. He strokes the pad of his thumb over Diego’s knuckles. “We might have only gotten our shit together recently, but we know what we’re committing to. Looking after little Jimbo, well, it’s really given us a new sense of purpose. Hasn’t it, baby?”

Diego turns to him, eyes wide. “Yeah – purpose. That’s the word.”

“Very nice.” Bangles tilts her head, looking rather charmed. “It’s unfortunate that your Father didn’t tell you about Jimmy sooner, you two seem to have forged a real connection with him.”

“Yeah, well, Dad was a crackpot.” Diego mutters, which is _not_ one of his approved lines.

“Crackpot?” Bangles repeats, turning apprehensive. “I’d like to touch on that a little, if that’s okay?”

Ah, shit.

“Oh, but of course.” Klaus says, laying it on a little thick. “What would you like to know?”

“We were very alarmed when we realized your Father had adopted another child so out of the blue, with yourselves not even knowing about it until after he passed.”

“Reginald Hargreeves was a lonely old man who was losing the last of his marbles.” Klaus lifts his shoulders in a shrug, feigning a heavyhearted sigh. “I like to think that he went soft in his old age and just wanted one last go at Fatherhood after being estranged from all of us for so long.”

Diego nods, making a loud noise of agreement. Klaus can’t tell whether he’s following the script or just trying not to crack up.

“Jimmy assured us he wasn’t mistreated by your Father but, and please forgive me if I’m being tactless here -” Bangles gives them an apologetic smile. “Your...unusual upbringing at Sir Reginald’s hands is somewhat public knowledge.”

Klaus feels Diego’s whole body go taught beside him and knows he’s thinking about Vanya’s book, expression darkening in a way that doesn’t exactly scream _Father of the Year_. He pats his hand consolingly.

“The reason for Dad’s, uh, _alternative_ parenting techniques were because we have these pesky powers, I’m sure you’ve heard.” Klaus waves the fingers on his left hand mystically. “Jimmy is just a normal kid, so I don’t see why Dad would have any reason to...push him, the way he did with us.”

Bangles writes something down in her pad that makes Ben frown. “And do you think any of your Father’s unconventional methods may have impacted your own ideas on how to raise and even, how to discipline, a child?”

Klaus blinks.

“Discipline?”

“Yes.” Bangles’s face turns hard. “Discipline.”

He knows Five fed him an answer to this question, but his brain has gone blank, filling up with images of Dad’s shadow in a moonlit doorway, creaky double-doors swinging shut as he’s propelled into darkness for another three hours.

“Don’t go there, Klaus.” Ben’s voice is in his ear, but its distant. “Look at Diego, he needs you.”

“Uh, w-well-” Diego stammers, then stops. Klaus is vaguely aware that he’s looking at him, but he’s also somewhere else, racking his panicking brain for the right answer. “Klaus, what do you think?”

Ben claps right in his face.

“Forget about Five and whatever his dumb script said, Klaus, _years_ of therapy has prepared you for this question.”

“Definitely.” Klaus blurts out, squeezing Diego’s hand as if to tether himself back to reality. “It’s definitely impacted how I think children should be raised - as in, nothing like how we were. Christ. Excuse me, Kelly. But Christ-” Ben motions for him to breath and he does, feeling his chest loosen up. “I think both of us spent enough time wishing we could have been born into a normal family to steer well away from child-rearing, if it meant we were just gonna repeat Dad’s mistakes.”

He’s way off-script, but considering how his eyes are prickling, Five might just get those tears out of him after all.

Bangles watches him from over her glasses. “And with those misgivings in mind, you both feel confident you’ve prepared for the reality and responsibilities of raising a child?”

“Yeah.” Diego answers for them both, sounding surprisingly self-assured. He gives Klaus a gentle nudge with his shoulder. “Yeah, we do. Don’t we, baby?”

“Oh, yeah.” Klaus finds himself lost in Diego’s face. “Very prepared.”

Bangles looks up from her pad briskly.

“Well, I think I’ve heard everything I need to today.”

“You have?” Klaus startles, then relaxes when he sees Ben is giving him a thumbs up.

“I can tell you two are a lovely couple.” She says, standing up. Klaus and Diego follow suit, gripping each other like they might actually fall over from shock. She holds out her hand for Klaus to shake first, then Diego. “Thank you for being so candid with me. I’d like to visit your home for your follow-up interview, but Jimmy tells me you’re currently moving apartment?”

“Moving.” Klaus nods, looping his arm through Diego’s. “See, we figured the academy is way too big, and Diego’s humble abode is a little more of a bachelor pad, if you catch my drift. We’re looking to start more of a little family nest, aren’t we?”

Diego looks longingly at the office door. “Whatever you say, babe.”

“He’s not looking forward to apartment hunting, but he doesn’t trust me to do it alone.” Klaus divulges, hugging Diego’s arm and giving Bangles’s wedding ring a long-suffering look. “Men, am I right?”

“We’ll get our new address to you right away.” Diego tells Kelly, his smile looking like more of a grimace. “Come on, _sweetheart_ , I’m sure Kelly has plenty of other meetings today.”

Bangles shows them out and Five runs across the waiting area to hug Klaus around the middle, burying his face in his chest. Klaus makes a sound like he’s been stabbed.

“Bye, Jimmy.” Bangles waves. Five waves back shyly from around Klaus’s midsection, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Drive home safe.”

As soon as her office door closes, Five drops the cute little kid act, looking up at Klaus with demon eyes and hissing. “What the fuck took you so long?”

"Language, pookie." Klaus pinches his cheek. "That's no way to talk to your _favorite_ , is it?" 

“Chill out, Jimmy.” Diego takes his arm out of Klaus's to roughly muss up Five's hair. “We fuckin’ nailed it, you’re welcome.”

Five regards them with great suspicion, breaking away from Klaus and leading them to the exit. “You did?”

“It was pretty good.” Ben offers. “I was entertained.”

“Ben practically can’t contain himself, he’s bursting with praise-”

“Thanks, Ben.” Diego grins in the opposite direction of where Ben is. He holds the door open for Klaus and Five, heading out into the car park. “She wants to come to our place for a home interview, only we don’t got a place, so what’s the move?”

“You’re both free tomorrow.” Five states.

Klaus and Diego just look at one another and shrug because, well.

Duh.

Five takes their silence for the affirmation it is. “Great, I need you to buy an apartment for me.”

If it wasn’t for them still being in the vicinity of the Family Services Center then Klaus is pretty sure Diego would be grabbing Five by the ear and swiftly disproving his answer on how they both feel about disciplining children.

“Did you just say _for_ you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Klaus and Diego go apartment hunting, Klaus and Allison bond over cigarettes and retail therapy, Five drunkenly confesses some disturbing information to Klaus, and a house-warming party ends in typical Hargreeves-family fashion - that is, not very well.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'd really love to know what you think, kudos and comments much appreciated! ♥ I'm also trying to get active on Tumblr again, so feel free to hit me up if you ever want to chat!: https://thotgreeves.tumblr.com


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